Shadows of Westeros
by jinx5892
Summary: Based on TV series. Two girls from opposing houses form an unlikely friendship. They discover a secret that will change their lives forever-Together they experience love, tragedy, friendships, and more as they are thrown into the middle ground of the Game of Thrones.
1. Daughter of the Sun

**Chapter 1:** ** _The Daughter of the Sun_**

* * *

 _In Dorne, bastards were given the surname Sand. Antoinette Sand was the bastard daughter of Ser Lewyn Martell. Her father was Prince Lewyn, the younger brother of the former ruling Princess of Dorne. He was appointed a member of the Kingsguard in service of King Aerys II Targaryen, and later, King Robert Baratheon. He had since retired and resided with his children in the capital of Dorne._

 _Antoinette was born and raised in Sunspear, the hottest region of Westeros. She had bronzed skin and her hair was long and black as night, framing her oval-shaped face in a delicate way. Her eyebrows were fairly thick and her forehead was much too big for her liking. What stood out the most about her, were her piercing grey eyes. She grew up with her older brother, Odin Sand. Antoinette was very close with Odin, even though there was a four year age difference. At an early age she learned how to fight with the help of her brother and her father. Her primary weapon were double daggers that her father had them custom made for her._

* * *

The sun blazed down on the city of Sunspear from a cloudless azure sky. It was a beautiful day. Well, most days in Dorne were beautiful, the sun was shining every day and the sky was so blue that no one could be hiding inside all day.

Antoinette had left her hair loose, wild, and messy. She had dressed in her usual clothing brown harem pants and a bright orange tank top embroidered with golden suns.

The sound of the dull clangs of wood against wood rung out in the air with each contact.

She peered through the legs of the people in front of her. She was too short and far too small to push through the crowd to get to the front but from where she stood she could see her brother in the training grounds.

It was a duel and it was a vigorous one. The other opponent who been glaring at Odin in a menacing manner, had shaggy light-brown hair and was a foot taller than him.

Antoinette wondered if the two boys were the same age. Both were looking for a weakness, for an opening for the other to fail. They were strong opponents and this wasn't her brother's first duel. A thrust there, a parry there, a lean and a kick. The two boys were heated in a deadly tango.

Antoinette couldn't help but cringe as she observed the fight that everyone else were also watching.

Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around her small waist and lifted her, "There. Now you can see, nuha gevives."

She looked into her father's dark eyes, who now held her in his arms. She giggled as the scruff of his beard tickled the side of her face. He was dark like she and her brother, tall, but didn't have the same colored eyes as she and her sibling. They all had the similar dark black hair, her father's was long enough to be sleeked back.

Antoinette can now see her brother clearly sparring with the other Dornishman. The sweat rolling down their faces was a sign of tiredness. Such complicated moves, with precise angles and cuts. It was terrifying and enriched at the same time.

The boy's attack came fast and surprised her. Odin was hardly able to raise his sword to block it, the wood clanging as he pushed Odin backwards. His blows came hard and after only a minute Odin's arm weakened but he was too stubborn to admit defeat, slashing his sword through the air, almost letting out a cry of victory as he stumbled backwards. Antoinette didn't realize she was holding her breathe the entire time. She felt sick with fear for her brother, her heart pounding fast against her chest. Seconds later, Odin was lying on his back, having no idea how he got there.

The boy hovered above Odin as he pushed his wooden sword against Odin's chest.

"Yield!" The boy shouted.

Odin growled throwing his wooden sword down off to the side causing the dirt to fly up from the ground. He managed to get himself up, glaring at the boy who defeated him. He turned and walked away pushing through the crowd. Antoinette saw her brother's retreating figure and struggled to get down from her father's arms.

"Leave him. He did well, defeat doesn't finish a man. A man is not finished when he's defeated. He's finished when he quits." He smiled at his little girl who still struggled to get out of his grasp. He bent down to lower his daughter on the ground.

"Father, I need to go to him." Her black hair whipped around her shoulder as she gave her father one more glance before running after Odin. She felt his anger and knew he must've felt embarrassed with the defeat. She couldn't stand her brother feeling like this, because in her eyes he would always be the true champion.

* * *

"Leave me be, Antoinette." Odin mumbled, his face was stained with dirt and dried up tears.

After running off to find Odin, it took Antoinette a while to finally find him next to the fountain in the Water Gardens.

"No." Antoinette simply said, out of breath she took a seat next to Odin but made sure she kept a distance.

Odin sniffed, and shook his head. "You don't understand how it feels... I'm never going to be like father. _He's_ the one who's a true fighter...a real fighter. Not me... I'm going to be a swordsmith. At least that'll save me the embarrassment of defeat-"

"Don't say that..." Antoinette put her hand on her brother's shoulder to calm him but in return he shook it off.

There was tense silence between the two siblings except for the occasional sniffles from Odin. Antoinette looked off into the distance, trying to think of something. Anything to calm her brother..

"Father said you did well...that you weren't defeated."

Odin finally turned to look into Antoinette's grey eyes, his face finally relaxing. Antoinette never broke eye contact as she continued, "You never yielded."

All the fights Antoinette witnessed of her brother, he had always been the victor.

"I shall fight him again... when I am ready."

"Yes... and he _will_ yield." Antoinette said confidently.

Odin smiled softly as his younger sister, his dark eyebrows no longer furrowed in a frown. He nodded his head, "I'm hungry. Lets find something to eat."

Antoinette stood up brushing off her pants as her brother raised his hand for his sister's help to stand up.

"Help me." Odin grinned, his hand out waiting for Antoinette's assistance.

Antoinette laughed, she knew being that she was five years old, wouldn't be able to lift or properly assist her brother to stand, but she still grabbed his hand. Antoinette froze as everything around her disappeared.

 _It was a blur and all of a sudden replaced by her brother at the training grounds fighting the same little boy. It was different this time, Odin wasn't tired this time and his blows were quick and fast. The boy lost his sword after Odin knocked it out of his hands. He held the sword up to the boy's chest, "Yield!"_

"Antoinette!" Odin had already stood up and Antoinette still had his hand in her grasp. He looked at his little sister concerned, "What's wrong with you?"

Antoinette blinked, and saw her brother in front of her. Tears had formed in her eyes from fear of not knowing what had just happened.

"I saw you..." Antoinette paused, trying to steady her erratic breathing.

"You saw me, what?" Odin impatiently urged his sister to explain.

"I-I just saw...I saw you-" She fumbled on her words, she wasn't sure how exactly to explain without sounding crazy or untrue.

"Go on with it!"

"You win the fight, I've seen you win the fight. I don't know, it was as if it was a dream."

Odin shook his head at his five year old sister. He was happy that Antoinette was trying to cheer him up, but he didn't appreciate her lying to him.

" _Really_!" She tugged at Odin's sleeve, "You must believe me! I saw it, it was-it was like some sort of vision! You're going to win the next fight, you knock his sword out of his hands and he yields! I saw it! I think it's going to really happen!"

Odin had enough of Antoinette's childish antics, "Oh, shut up! Lets go. I'm hungry."

He turned away from Antoinette stomping off in the opposite direction towards the kitchens as Antoinette jogged to keep up with his fast pace.

She knew she couldn't tell anyone about this. She trusted her father but she didn't know if he would react as accepting as her brother. She was five and didn't understand what she had just experienced, or if she really did experience it. Maybe it was the heat that caused her to be delusional at one point.

Days had passed and Antoinette quit trying to convince her brother of what she had seen. Her brother was reluctant to believe her until a week after her vision turned out to be right. Odin and that same little boy fought at the training grounds, and Odin was in fact the winner. The fight was exactly how she saw in her vision, but longer and much clearer now that she had seen in it in real life. At the end of the fight, Odin ran to his sister and picked her up swinging her around in joy.

"You were right!" Odin smiled up at his sister as he held her up as high as his arms could extend.

Antoinette laughed and looked at her brother in admiration, love and respect. Their father smiled at their fondness for each other. Odin had apologized for not believing her at first and Antoinette understood him completely. It was madness, her visions, being able to foresee events that haven't yet took place.

* * *

 **FOUR YEARS LATER**

It was an unusually _cool_ morning for a summer day in Dorne. The sky was _bright_ and _clear_ , the wind light but welcoming. The grass had recently been cut, but the smell still in the air, lingering with that of fresh squeezed lemons and the slight aroma of horses. The fountain had been scrubbed so that the dark marble of a spear piercing the sun shone in the light of the morning. The barns and arenas beyond the fountain were immaculate, with horses hanging their heads lazily over their stall doors.

Antoinette was seated on one of the balconies of the Water Gardens, under an orange tree. This particular tree was her father's favorite spot.

"Would you like to spar today, sister?" Antoinette turned to look up at her thirteen year old brother.

"Of course, brother." She took hold of her brother's hand and proceeded to walk into the training courtyards.

She was nine years old now, and her brother Odin Sand had already made it his duty to follow her everywhere she went. When he wasn't training in the courtyard, he was there behind her, a not-so-silent shadow.

At first, Antoinette found it annoying. For some reason, she never found the worse to tell him that to his face.

"I'll always protect you." He said, when she finally tentatively brought up the subject. And even to young Antoinette, he looked ridiculous, a mere boy trying to keep a solemn face as he made a promise to her.

She had no idea why she nodded, and believed him completely.

Over the years, she got used to having her brother around everywhere, so much that it felt like a part of her was missing whenever he wasn't around her but as they grew older, she found her brother being preoccupied with more adult manners. She ceased every opportunity she had to spend time with her brother now. Ever since the first vision she experienced when she was five, she never did have another one after.

* * *

"Keep your guard up," Odin instructed, aiming a quick slash at Antoinette's chest.

Antoinette dodged aside, shaking sweat out of her eyes. She tried to retaliate with a lunge to her brother's throat, but Odin parried.

Odin grew up to be a tall, broad young man with black hair that was all slicked back and his the sides of his head were shaved. The style of his hair never changed throughout the years. He too, had the trait of thick eyebrows and olive skin just as his little sister. His features were sharp and elongated with large eyes the color of light blue, a light beard trailed across his angular face. There was a small scar just above his right eye; an accident that happened during one of his spar matches with Antoinette when she managed to nick his skin with the point of her dagger. His effect on women was even bigger thanks to his natural charisma and overall friendly demeanor. When someone spoke to him it seemed like there was no chance in this world that this young man would be able to kill a man twice his size using only his bare hands.

Even now as he stood no more than half a foot from Antoinette, he exulted power and authority.

"Don't stand so close to me, you'll get us all tangled up in each other. Stay further back and move quickly in and out." Odin demonstrated, scoring light taps on each of Antoinette's shoulders and thighs in rapid succession.

"I can't do that," Antoinette complained, trying to back away.

"Of course you can," Odin scoffed, "It's not hard."

Just then Antoinette tripped over a small rock and Odin took his advantage, pressing the tip of his sword to Antoinette's throat.

"I win," he announced, smirking, "Again."

"It's not fair," Antoinette huffed, batting Odin's sword away and sitting up, rubbing the sore spot where her head had met the ground. "Your sword's bigger. You can hit me without ever getting close enough for me to touch you."

Odin chuckled, offering his sister a hand up. "It's not the size of the weapon that counts, sister, it's how you use it."

"No one really believes that, Odin," Antoinette retorted scathingly, but she accepted the hand up.

"Want to go one more round? I can show you that twisting move I did earlier."

"No thanks," Antoinette stretched her back carefully, mindful of sore spots, "I don't think I could handle more bruises. I'm done for today."

Antoinette wiped the sweat that procured above her eyebrow with the back of her hand. The coolness of the morning evaporated in sheer terror of the coming torture of the day.

"Have you not heard?" Odin had a sudden frown on his face, "Father has some business to tend to, and we're supposed to depart in a few days."

"Where to?" Antoinette put her wooden sword on the bench next to her, not bothering to ask what business her father had.

She was still too young to understand, especially if it involved politics.

"King's Landing." Odin replied as he and Antoinette walked over to the open grass where a tree was rooted and developed the only shade around the training grounds.

"Am I part of that _'we'_?" Antoinette asked.

Odin scoffed, "Of course not. Are you aware of the dangers in King's Landing? Smoke, sweat, and shit. King's Landing, in short. Not much to see, sister. If you have a good nose you can smell the treachery too."

King's Landing was the capital of the Seven Kingdoms, festering city of filth. It was the site of the Iron Throne and the Red Keep. Blackwater Bay, the waters that the city flanked must have only acquired such a name only after years of contamination.

Unless one was of the nobility or of wealth, there was no way such a place could be seen as a capital city of much price. The stench of the city had been known to accost travelers and visitors alike for centuries.

"Oh."

Antoinette could not manage to speak any further as she finally sat down on the grass, leaning her back against the base of the tree while her brother continued to stand.

She had never left Dorne. Though she had to admit, the Seven Kingdoms did not tempt her as a designation. Especially not King's Landing, for many reasons, but it would be nice to have a change.

Antoinette had a slight idea of why Odin wasn't so happy about this invite, though the Royal Family, nowadays merely consisting of the Lannisters, were their sworn enemies. They had once had Elia Martell killed, Antoinette's and Odin's cousin, a princess of Dorne. Tywin Lannister himself also ordered the deaths of Elia's children in order to secure the throne for the present king Robert Baratheon.

"Can I _please_ go with you and father?" Antoinette begged her brother, pulling grass from the roots and tossing it.

"No." Odin would never want to risk putting his sister in danger, even after years of training in combat and weaponry, she was far too young still.

" _Please_! I _promise_ I won't bother you or father. I _promise_ I'll stay out of the way. Besides, what am I going to do here when you're gone? _Please_ , Odin. It's not fair!"

"Enough! I said _no_. Father will say no as well."

Antoinette fell silent once again after Odin had raised his voice. After a few moments of a tense silence between the two siblings, Odin sighed sitting down on the grass next to his sister.

"I'll speak to father." He finally said and leaned, relaxing against the tree and closing his eyes.

Antoinette couldn't contain her excitement as she threw her arms around her brother and hugged him, "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

* * *

"Did he speak with you?" Prince Lewyn did not look up when his daughter entered his chambers. She sat down, facing him, without saying a word, but Lewyn took her silence for an answer.

"I take it, he did. And now you come to me, craving approval." he said finishing the letter he was writing. Again silence rose in the room, while the prince sealed the letter. He took a raven out of a cage next to him and bound the letter to its leg, while Antoinette watched him quietly.

King's Landing wasn't favored by Prince Lewyn at all. During the battle of Trident, Elia's husband Rhaegar was killed by Lord Robert Baratheon. Rhaegar's father, the Mad King Aerys II, believed that Prince Lewyn must have betrayed Rhaegar on the Trident, so Aerys kept Elia and both of her children in King's Landing as hostages against the possible Dornish betrayal.

When he had sent the bird on its way Antoinette finally managed to speak: "Father, I _beg_ of you to let me go."

"And, what is it you will do there _hmm_?"

Prince Lewyn never brought his children out of Dorne, and King's Landing was the last place he wanted them to see. Even though years had passed he remembered the old familiar stinks of King's Landing; the scents of sour wine, bread baking, rotting fish and nightsoil, smoke and sweat and horse piss.

"I won't be of any trouble." she answered, not daring to break eye contact with her father. "I will not disturb you with the King. I will be..."

"You can't even answer that question properly and you want me to agree on you accompanying us to Kings Landing, nuha gevives." Lewyn said calmly.

Antoinette pouted and folded her arms, "You only picked Odin because _he's_ your favorite!"

Lewyn smiled and shook his head. Antoinette continued to test his patience, she was stubborn and determined get her way. Since the day she was born, she was a fussy baby always testing Lewyn by trying out different behaviors to see what his response would be. She cried and cried until she was held, and if it was anyone other than Lewyn, she would continue to cry until it was his arms that she was placed in.

Antoinette furthered her begging, " _Please_! If you and Odin leave me here, I will follow you!"

Lewyn laughed out loud, "Follow me? You know how to sail across the Sea of Dorne?"

"That's why I should go! To learn more about the Seven Kingdoms!"

"That's a good reason."

"Then?" Antoinette asked.

"Yes?"

Antoinette stood up and wrung her arms around her father's waist looking up at him, " _Pleeease_!"

He always had a soft spot for his daughter, the minute he would see her pout and look into her beautiful gray eyes full of sadness, he would easily give in. This time was different. This time it wasn't a toy or a sweet treat she was pleading for. She asked for something that she barely had any knowledge about. If only she understood about the dangers in King's Landing...

Discomfort snaked through him. He placed his hands on her head, "I will think about it."

"So yes?"

"I said I will think about it." Lewyn sighed.

"Great, I will pack right now!"

Before he uttered a single word Antoinette fled out of the room.

Prince Lewyn was left alone with his thoughts. But it was not to last, for peace, even frail and tattered, is forever haunted by troubles.

Raising two children was incredibly challenging. Shortly after Antoinette had turned two, Lewyn's paramour, the mother of both his children was stricken with a harsh fever that eventually led to her untimely death. He was devastated. But not once did he ever think about abandoning his children.. His duty as a father was to love, protect, and guide them until his last breath.

He found himself acknowledging that he was indeed _more_ protective of his daughter than he was with his son. He was more suspicious of Odin than he was of Antoinette. He felt equipped to warn his daughter against the evils of "bad men" out in the world. With Odin, he focused more on not letting _him_ become one of the bad men.

It was the same bad men that led to Elia's _death_...

There was no kind of affection so purely angelic of a father to a daughter. In love to his paramour, there was desire; his son, there was ambition. But to his daughter, there was something which there are no words to express.

* * *

The ship was well-kept and neat, with a trade ship's careful balance of speed and a huge cargo space. There were about twenty other Dornish seamen and guards that had set sail with Prince Lewyn.

During the weeks' sail to King's Landing, Odin made sure Antoinette was informed about the politics and cruelty of Westeros, a land filled with so much corruption and thirst for power.

Odin had told her the story of the infamous Iron Throne at King's Landing that contained the swords of those Aegon the Conqueror defeated in battle, but not of those who had surrendered honorably rather give battle.

He described the throne was so large in fact that it was physically impossible to move it and during the reign of House Targaryen, the walls of the Great Hall in the Red Keep were decorated with the skulls of dragons.

She ignored the sudden flutter of her heart caused by fear, she knew her brother well enough that he was trying to convince her that coming along on this trip wasn't the best decision for her.

Antoinette leaned on the ship's rail, staring at the town and towers in the horizon ahead of them. She was barefoot and dressed in a sleeveless silk gown.

She closed her grey eyes and basked in the sudden peace and quiet with the warm wind blowing in her dark untamed hair.

It had took two weeks for King's Landing to finally come into view. As they neared the Blackwater Bay, the sea had risen considerably higher for them to dock and unload easily.

The Dornish seamen were busy all along the deck as the ship was anchored, coiling the ropes and stowing the away the sails that were stitched with the Martel house sigil. Antoinette and Odin followed their father as he walked along the dock. There stood three men of the king's guard, wearing all-white cloaks and gold armor with extensive white enameling.

The fourth man, who wasn't dress as the rest, wore a gold brooch shaped like a hand on his brown leather tunic. He had grey hair, kind blue eyes and an aquiline nose.

"Jon Aryn... It seems as if it was just yesterday I last seen you." Lewyn greeted the man now known as Jon Aryn.

"Your presence honors our house, Prince Lewyn." He said with a low curtesy. He was missing half of his teeth.

"As do your courtesy." Lewyn returned the bow. "We were becalmed at sea some days. Did we miss anything?"

"Barely." Jon Aryn's eyes drifted right. "I see you brought your children."

"I've sent a raven to the king. I was assured my children would be welcomed." Lewyn said, raising his thick black eyebrows. "They won't be in any need of a septa or septon, perhaps maybe a handmaiden. At Sunspear, they shared personal attendants with the rest."

"Yes, yes. Everything is arranged." His expression was grave, riddled with something Lewyn was not in a mood to unravel. "Prince Lewyn, the circumstances of this visit-"

"Could scarcely be less congenial. But men like you and I must put aside such considerations."

"Very well. We shouldn't keep the king waiting any longer. Please. Follow me." Jon said.

* * *

Antoinette walked along side of her brother as she looked around with her startling grey eyes as the sun danced on them. Around the walls and gates, the city was surrounded with arbors, brick storehouses, timbered inns, merchants' stalls, manses, taverns, fish markets, and brothels. Between buildings the roads were lined with trees, alleys and streets. Her brother was right, it smelled. Horrible.

They had stopped at an entrance that was made up of two huge bronze and wooden doors. As they entered, Antoinette looked around The Great Hall. It was a large, cavernous room. Overhead was the towering vaulted ceiling, with massive arches and columns. Antoinette didn't see the skulls of dragons on the walls as Odin had explained during the sail, however there were vine motifs and several candelabra placed to illuminate the place.

They reached the assembled retinue of the household guards of the royal family, and the rest of the king's guard.

The Iron Throne sat on the opposite side, atop of a raised dais where two set of wide steps of rough black stone were placed to climb to the throne. It towered about forty feet in height. Behind the throne, a tall stained-glass window depicting stags-the sigil of House Baratheon.

On the last step leading to the Iron Throne stood a man with a beard as coarse and black as iron wire covered his jaw to hide his double chin. He stood at six foot two, slick black hair that reached down to his shoulders. He was on the chubby side but still had broad shoulders, on top of his head rested a golden crown. He was dressed in fine clothing with a cloak emblazoned with his respective sigil, a stag.

Antoinette believed this was the King Robert Baratheon. A woman stood next to him who Antoinette knew was the Queen, Cersei Lannister. She was a strikingly beautiful woman; golden hair, brilliant blue eyes, fair skin, and a slender graceful figure dressed in a crimson red floor length gown.

The Dornishmen joined the king's guards and Lannister knights that were also standing in place near the tall pillars. Prince Lewyn walked to the steps, and dropped into a low curtsy in front of the man who slayed Prince Rhaegar. Antoinette and Odin mimicked his actions, dropping in a low curtsy as well.

"Rise, Prince Lewyn." King Robert said with no emotion.

The King and his wife exchanged formalities with Lewyn as they continued to talk about something Antoinette couldn't interrupt the meaning of. She continued to scan the Great Hall, in awe of how different everything was compared to Sunspear.

On the right side of the Hall stood a raised gallery that looked like it was connected to other areas of the Red Keep. To the left side of the Hall, there were several windows with stained-glass depictions of the seven-pointed star of the Faith of the Seven. She knew in King's Landing practiced the faith of the Seven, the faith that holds that there is one God who has seven faces.

Her thoughts were ceased as King Robert's voice was louder than before, "Who is he?" He asked

"That is my son, Odin Sand." Lewyn said smoothly, gesturing to Odin.

"I don't think I've ever met a Sand, before." Cersei spoke. Antoinette could see in her eyes that she was looking down at her brother with some distaste.

"We're everywhere in Dorne..." Odin laughed a little, "I probably have ten thousand brothers and sisters."

"Bastards are born out of passion, aren't they?" Lewyn added. "We don't despise them in Dorne.

"How tolerant of you." Cersei smirked, her voice laced with sarcasm.

"Shut it Cersei! What will more bastards do with one already here?" Robert snapped harshly at his wife. "Now, I've met your son. I know who he is. Where is the girl? She can't hide forever!" He asked searching around with his belly pulsing as he laughed.

During the conversation between the men, Antoinette had kept herself partially hidden behind Odin. Her short stature was unnoticed or perhaps forgotten when the king had started to converse with her father and brother.

Odin reluctantly looked down and behind him. Antoinette took a small step forward from behind her brother. Thankfully, King Robert hollered for more wine and glanced around until another cup was in his hand. It took him several minutes to even notice the girl suddenly at her father's side and when he did, the wine cup was paused at his lips. Robert stared for a long moment, taking in the girl's appearance with more seriousness in his eyes than Lewyn had seen in some time. Then, as if he'd seen Lewyn's curiosity, the King laughed heartily.

"What's this?" he asked throughout his laughter. "Certainly you don't expect me to believe this lovely maiden is your bastard?" Lewyn saw Antoinette visibly tense and he placed his hand on her shoulder to help calm her.

"Her name is Antoinette, Antoinette Sand of House Martell." Lewyn countered and the King's laughter died down slowly as he looked down at her, contemplating his next words.

"Who was your mother, girl?" he asked and Antoinette looked up to her father who nodded.

"Nhya Folmer, your grace." She said confidently, looking Robert in the eye which seemed to unnerve the stag as he glanced back at his cup. "She lived just outside of Lemonwood." Robert cleared his throat.

"She must have been a great beauty to allow Lewyn to be blessed with such amiable looks," he told her, reaching out to her and placing his hand under Antoinette's chin. She was more uncomfortable than before but she continued to hide it under the eyes of the king. "How old are you?"

"I will celebrate my tenth name day in a few months, time. Your grace."

"Seven hells, Lewyn!" he proclaimed. "The poor girl will be condemned to the life of an old maid if she is to live in Dorne! You should consider living here in King's Landing. It's a sin to waste such a pretty face, if you ask me." He said laughing. "I know a great deal of Lord who would kill to conquer a Sand bride with a face like hers."

She felt the heat rise to her cheeks, reddening her olive skin. She was embarrassed. In fact, as she stood there trying desperately to search for the right word to describe how disgusted she felt, there wasn't one good enough that came to mind. Marriage or men were the last thing on her mind, she was nine. Her father had discussed marriage with her only once and in Dorne, there were no forced marriages.

"I've vowed to let her decide on marriage, when that time comes." Her father cut in, she could hear the anger in his voice. "She is perfectly capable of making a decision as such on her own, your grace."

"You should feel quite lucky, girl. Not many women are blessed with the choice on who to marry."

"Yes, your Grace. My father is most gracious." She said with a forced smile. At this Robert laughed.

No sooner had those formalities of greeting been completed than the king had said to Prince Lewyn, " _Come_. Let us discuss the matters at hand and let your people get settled in!"

The tension was momentarily forgotten as the King turned and Lewyn followed close behind him. Antoinette didn't waste time fleeing out of the hall doors alongside of her brother. All she wanted to do was be completely unnoticed by the lot of them.


	2. In The Lion's Den

**Chapter Two: In the Lion's Den**

* * *

Joslyn Lannister was the youngest daughter of Lord Tywin Lannister. Joslyn was similar but still nothing like her siblings, she was a bastard child of Tywin Lannister. She knew what she was, she had known it since she was old enough to understand. For no reasons no one questioned, he ordered for her to be placed in the royal family behind Cersei, Tyrion and Jaime. Joslyn believed Tywin took such a liking to her because he was looking to fill the void he felt after he had Tyrion, he blamed Tyrion for the death of his wife, Lady Joanna Lannister.

Years later she had died, Tywin took it upon himself to engage with another woman and she shortly became pregnant with Joslyn. Her lady mother had got into a depressed after Joslyn's birth which no one knew why. Her mother had thrown herself off the cliffs of Casterly Rock and Lord Tywin took her in knowing she had no one else in the world. When she had turned two, Tywin took it upon himself to send her away to King's Landing with Cersei

Her eyes were the lightest shade of blue, and her signature golden hair that all of the Lannisters had was long just past her shoulder blades. She had slight freckles on her face, a thin small nose and dark brown thick eyebrows. When she smiled, her dimples were visible to see. She had sun-kissed skin that undoubtedly wasn't inherited from the Lannister blood she had in her. There were rumors throughout the realm that Joslyn was indeed a bastard child of a Dornish woman, but rumors were all that it had remained.

Joslyn was nine years old, bored out of her mind within the walls of the Red Keep. She sat on a bench in the courtyard with her guard Ser Arys Oakheart who was sipping wine from his leather flask. He was older than his true age. Years of drinking had robbed him of his youth, but Joslyn still found him handsome in some way. Tall, dark, and handsome.

Between the flowers of the beautiful courtyard, were septas sitting and reading. Gardeners wandered around, pacing amongst the flowers and whole landscape was bathed in the warm glow of the sun.

Her septa, Eglantine, was assigned specifically for the princess Myrcella today, the reason why was unknown to Joslyn. Whatever the reason was, she knew her sister could care less about her own lessons. Cersei cared fiercely for her _own_ cubs. To Cersei, Joslyn was just bothersome.

Joslyn's hair was placed in an intricate southern-style, wearing an extravagant floor length gown with the signature Lannister red and gold colors. Around her neck was the necklace her father had sent to her on her fifth name day, a golden pendent of a lion with their words, _**Hear Me Roar**_ engraved in the back of it.

Her eyes were planted into a book of hers, scanning over the words and sentences, taking her brother's words to heart. _A mind needs books like a sword needs a whetstone if it is to keep its edge._ Joslyn repeated it in her head. Her brother Tyrion always did have the most interesting stories and far more interesting advice to share with her. She sighed, once she came to the epilogue of her book, she'd realize there was nothing left to do.

"Do you have a paramour, Arys?" Joslyn asked bravely.

" _What_?" Arys Oakheart always knew children were naturally curious and inquisitive, but of all the times he had spent with the little lion, she had never showed any interest in him.

"Do you have a paramour? A lover? A wife?"

"No. What kind of question is that, anyway? You're supposed to reading about history, okay?" Arys shifted uncomfortably on the bench.

"It _is_ history... Arys history."

" _No._.. that's _ancient_ history." Arys took another gulp of wine before screwing the cork back on his flask. He drank just a little less than the amount that would slur his words. He had short dark hair, a beard that framed his angular shaped face, and a predatory look in his dark eyes that would scare any grown man away.

Joslyn rolled her eyes. She always liked Arys, but she couldn't say the same for him about her. Arys always kept their conversations short and Joslyn knew if he were to be able to be relieved of his duty as her guard, she would never see him again. She understood, he was a grown man after all with needs and other things that he found far more interesting than being a watch guard for a child.

It was only two hours past midday and she'd already managed to finish an entire book. If only she knew how to read any slower she might have more things to do in this boring castle. She shut the hard cover, practically slamming it closed. Her bright blue eyes shimmered in the glowing afternoon light as she stared hard at her guard, Arys Oakheart.

"Done..Can we go now?" Joslyn asked, her eyes pleading Arys to say yes.

Arys sighed, " _Fine_. But stay within my eyesight."

* * *

The trees were big and full of life, the towers of the wood. Arys and Joslyn walked through the Godswoods in comfortable silence. The only sound was the crunching of twigs in the grass and the occasional clanking of his sword he wore on him at all times. The Godswoods overlooked the Blackwater Rush. It was an acre of elm, elder, and black cottonwood trees.

When Arys was assigned to her, it would become almost a cycle to walk through the Godswoods or take a walk in the gardens, anything was better than sewing or reading. She agreed that enjoyed both, but repeating the same routines every single day of her young life made her feel numb at times and frankly, quite _bored_.

"What was the King celebrating last night?" Joslyn asked walking on the side of Arys but keeping a proper distance from him.

"The arrival of his new guests..." Arys replied rather bored. " _Late_... but they still managed a proper welcoming feast."

"Why wasn't I allowed at the feast?" Joslyn didn't get much sleep last night as the loud music from the Grand Hall kept her up until the early hours. She knew Joffrey was to attend the feast with Cersei and his father, for he was the prince. But she still didn't think it was fair since she was a year older than he was.

"It was past your bed time... Myrcella and Tommen were in bed as well-"

"They're _babes_!" Joslyn interrupted, raising her voice, "I am _not_ a babe-"

"You're a _child_!" Arys voice boomed over hers as he gave her a stern look for the tone she had just used. "And besides, who would want to baby sit you rather than choosing to enjoy their selves with wine and whores instead?"

Joslyn scrunched her face up in disgust as he said the word " _whores_ ". That, and the stench of wine coming from him was stronger than ever.

"You wouldn't choose wine..." She carefully thought about her words and how improper it would be of her to use such vulgarity, "Or, _women_ over me." She finished.

"I wouldn't?" Arys let out a small chuckle, "If the Queen didn't assign myself to you today, where would you think I'd be?"

"That's _rude_... And I thought you liked me."

"There's not much to like about you, little lion." His face was as still as stone.

Her face was glazed for a split-second and then she frowned, her pouty lips pursed together and her ice blue eyes unblinking. At that moment, if her eyes were a weapon, the piercing look in them would have caused Arys some serious destruction.

"You jest." She said, still frowning. "You know as well as I do that I'm _far_ more fun than wine and women."

"As you say..." He paused to look around the wooded surroundings before turning back to Joslyn.

"Stay right here. Don't move. I need to take a piss." He turned his back on her.

"As you say... _Ser_." Joslyn said mockingly while she watched Arys's retreating form disappearing into a thick covering of trees.

She sighed as she stood there and waited. She watched as a squirrel searched for food under the bristles of wispy green moss.

The forest didn't scare her as much as it did when she was younger. She read that in the North, Godswoods were of an active religious center than a secular garden as this was. There was no weirwood tree likes most castles in the North still had.

Getting bored from standing in one place, Joslyn started to wander through the trees slowly and without hurry and listened to its sounds. She heard the singing of the birds enjoying their life and sharing their joy through their songs. She kept wandering and still listened to the sounds of nature, until she came upon a small clearing.

Joslyn was in shock with the scene that was before her eyes. Out in the clearing was a girl, about her own age and height, swinging a wooden playsword. She was swiping the sword in different ways, in and out, up and down, at absolutely nothing but the air. It looked almost like a dance.

The girl had messy black long hair, tanned skin almost the same as Joslyn's. She definitely couldn't have been from King's Landing. She was dressed in an odd assortment of clothes, a bright blue short sleeved dress that reached right above her ankles. The flowy material was sheer and thin, and from where Joslyn stood she could see something orange and yellow stitched along the fabric.

Joslyn wondered why the girl was out here by herself. Ladies weren't meant for sword play. They were supposed to practice matters of etiquette, history, sewing and singing. Everything and anything to prepare their selves for a noble highborn man someday.

She started to walk forward to the girl, curiosity flaring in her cerulean eyes.

Perhaps it was the same curiosity that influenced her to one day, long ago, to ask her brother Jaime to teach her something with a wooden sword.

Joslyn's small fingers had barely grazed the handle of her sword when Cersei caught them.

"What have I told you about encouraging her to play with swords? She's a _lady_ , not a common sellsword." Cersei chastised Jaime firmly. Her hard gaze met with Joslyn's soft expression.

The sound of a " _thwack_ " pulled her from her past memory. Joslyn felt a tinge of jealousy through her veins as she looked at the girl who swung her wooden sword against a tree. Joslyn's eyes were narrowed, rigid, cold, and hard.

"That's not very lady like!" Joslyn declared.

As if Joslyn hadn't said anything, the girl continued to swing her wooden air slicing it through thin air. She called out to the girl once, twice, three times. Nothing.

She squinted her eyes. Her voice was heard, but the girl clearly wasn't listening. Joslyn's temper was a simmering pot, slow burning, ready to bubble up at any moment. She took fast strides over to the girl, and made sure she was in the girl's peripheral vision.

The only time Joslyn was deliberately ignored was by Cersei. Joslyn stomped her foot on the grass, the thought of her sister only angered her more.

"Are you daft?" She asked louder this time. " _Hello_? You can't just ignore me!"

Joslyn suddenly walked up to her, grabbing the little girl's shoulder.

The girl abruptly turned around holding the wooden sword to Joslyn's chest.

"I _heard_ you!" She said with a thick foreign accent.

Joslyn looked at her in disbelief. This girl would dare raise a sword to her, a wooden sword at that. Her father was Tywin Lannister. Her sister was the Queen. She wasn't allowed to do this to her.

She pushed the sword down and away from her body.

"Do you know who I am? I am Joslyn Lannister! Sister of the _queen_ -"

"I don't care!" The girl stepped so close to Joslyn that they were almost touching each other's nose.

Joslyn drew in a deep breath, the girl's the burning hard stare felt painful and piercing. She could now see the pores on the girl's face, her dark long eyelashes as Joslyn stared back into the grey orbs that were surging with fury.

The unmoving gaze was accompanied by both the girl's deliberate slow breathing, neither of them backing down.

"HEY!" A fierce yell came from the distance.

The two of them quickly took steps back from one another and turned to see Ser Arys Oakheart walking rather fast towards them.

"Didn't I tell you to stay put? What the hell is so hard about listening? If something were to happen to you, it would've been _my_ head on the spike!" Arys shouted, still tying up the strings to his pants.

Joslyn knew he cared more about himself than of her, but if she were in trouble or went missing, his life would be in grave danger.

Joslyn glanced at the girl, whose face was still smoldering, before finally turning to join Arys.

"Seven hells, girl! I told you to stay put. Not to start wandering about! We need to walk back before anyone starts to wonder where you are." His words were spat out with ferocity.

She knew she should just stay quiet and wait for the storm to abate but she had too many questions about that girl she just encountered.

"Who is she?" Joslyn asked as she struggled to keep up with the pace of Arys who was fueled with anger.

" _Who_?" He asked with an irritated tone.

"That girl, Arys! That girl back there with the sword!" Joslyn struggled to catch her breath and tried not to trip over the hem of her dress.

"She is the daughter of the King's guest. King Robert has business with her father."

"What's her name?"

"I don't bleeding know!" Arys threw his arms up in frustration. "I would think that was discussed between you girls as you were standing _so_ close to be aquainted...and perhaps even _more_ than that."

At this point, Joslyn was too annoyed to notice his sly remark at the end as she continued her rant, "She was _rude_!"

"Maybe it was _you_ who was rude." He bit back. He took the wineskin that was in his belt, downing the rest of its contents.

" _Quiet_." She glared at him, her patience was thinning too now. "And it doesn't matter, she should have answered to me."

He swallowed and tossed the wineskin out onto the grass.

"Why is that, little lady?" He looked down at her as If she was crazy.

"Because _I_ am a Lannister. _My_ father is Tywin Lannister. And my sister is the _Queen_." She stopped walking.

She felt her ears starting to get hot. Arys turned his head back to look at her but continued walking forward.

"And that will make you?" His sounded as if he was truly curious.

"Joslyn Lannister. House of Lannister. Bastard or not, _I_ have my father's name!"

She tried to sound proud but she came off sounding snobby. She wanted to cry as rage filled her belly. Arys laughed at her, adding fuel to her wrath. She took a deep breath in before storming off right past Arys, her father's words echoed through her mind.

 _A lion doesn't concern itself with the opinion of a sheep._

* * *

King's Landing was altogether different from Dorne. The food was _bland_ , tasteless, with no seasoning apart from salt and a little pepper. Everyone was quiet, silent except when spoken to yet when Odin looked a man or woman in the eyes, he felt the hair on the back of his neck rise. They were wolves and lions, foxes and snakes-beasts, all of them. They smiled, bright and blooming when it suited them, but behind it there was the promise of blood.

The scent of trees and grass drifted through the air as Odin and Antoinette sparred against each other in the Godswood.

Odin had kept his sister company whenever he could during their stay at King's Landing. Most of the time though his father insisted on keeping him company with the King.

Antoinette attacked. The two siblings stood in one place, trading feints, thrusts and parries with lightning speed, almost impossible to follow. She had no trouble matching Odin.

"Excellent form, sister... But how's your footwork? If I step here-" He took a step around an imaginary circle.

Antoinette stepped the other way, maintaining her relationship with Odin.

"Very good! And if I step again, you step again." He continued to step around in the circle.

To any outsider, it looked as if they were in a serious spar but they dared not to injure each other seriously.

It was time for a rest when Odin saw a little girl sitting down on a tree log in the near distance. Her golden hair was braided in an resemblance of a crown around her head and she wore an extravagant plum colored long sleeved dress with gold trimming. Next to her sat a man in a customary knight's uniform. She was the same little girl he had been seeing almost every day now.

The girl was looking in their direction, speaking to the knight whose eyes were elsewhere, ignoring her as he continued to drink from a wine skin.

"It seems like your friend is back." Odin said before he took a drink of water from his leather flask.

Antoinette turned her head where Odin's gaze was held. "She is _not_ my friend!"

"She looks like she's about your age, huh?" He continued to stare back at the girl.

His eyes glimmered the color of emerald, sparkling in the light of the afternoon sun.

"Who cares? She's a Lannister!" Antoinette spat.

Odin raised his eyebrows at her remark. So far King's Landing wasn't overall enjoyable to his little sister, but he _did_ warn her. He was surprised for her harshness and her judgement towards the child. Even though the girl was a Lannister, what happened to Elia Martell was before they were _both_ even born. The child had nothing to do with it, and he'd be surprised if she even knew about it.

"She's just a child. She doesn't know better. It looks like she's bored out of her mind." He sighed.

"And?" Antoinette asked and she turned back around picking up her sword.

Silence lingered in the air, thick and heavy, like a blanket. Before Antoinette could turn around and say something, Odin had trailed off leaving her alone with her thoughts.

* * *

Odin walked across the green grass until he was in front of the pair that was using a fallen tree as a bench to sit on.

"Hello there." He smiled down at the girl before him and a polite nod to the guard beside her. "I am Odin Sand of House Martell."

"Pleasure... I am Joslyn Lannister, House of Lannister." She titled her head up at Odin and the sun shined on her face. Odin didn't notice her eyes until now. Her eyes were stunning. They were iridescent and flecked with every shade of blue.

"And this is my knight, Ser Arys Oakheart." She finished.

Arys stood and the strong odor of wine followed him. They exchanged formalities before Arys sat back down on the log. He looked like he didn't want to be there.

"I think I've seen you here a few times... Would you like to join? I mean, if you're permitted.." Odin glanced over at Arys, knowing that she would need some sort of permission from him.

"I would love to!" She smiled and turned to look at Arys with pleading eyes, "Arys, _please_! _Please_ , let me play with them!"

The knight didn't answer. Instead he lifted a wineskin to his lips, tilting his head back. He drank like a child who hadn't seen water for a week. But this was no child, and it certainly wasn't water was drinking. Odin stared at the knight before him, feeling disgusted in a way. How was he supposed to guard and protect this little girl in such a state?

With each gulp his Adam's apple bobbed violently and the liquor drizzled from both sides of his thin weathered lips. He swallowed and wiped his mouth with his sleeve.

His voice was deep, and raspy when he finally spoke, " _No_. I forbid it. If something were to happen you-Hell, even just a scratch on your knee-"

"It'll be your head." She finished the sentence for him, rolling her eyes. "You and I both know that's not true. If they even cared, I'd be with Septa Eglantine and Myrcella."

The two of them continued a heated debate. Odin shifted in his spot as he started to feel uncomfortable with the two arguing back and forth. He looked back at his sister who was rooted to the same spot shooting daggers at him with her eyes.

"I guess I'll tell my sister or maybe my _brothers_ that you've been taking me down to the fish market and the streets of the hook." She threanted with a honeyed voice.

The girl displayed such an arrogant pride, it was clear that she was from a high-born family and definitely related to the Queen.

"Bugger that! That's been your idea!"

" _Has_ it?" She challenged.

"Alright... _Fine_! Go on, then. But don't fucking come crying your little eyes out if they're too rough on you!"

Odin saw the spit spray from his mouth. Fires of fury were smoldering the small narrowed eyes of the knight unbeknownst to Joslyn as she hopped up and threw her arms around Arys in a tight hug.

* * *

Odin led Joslyn where Antoinette stood. She walked with a bounce in her step. Odin tried to figure out why this proposal made her so giddy, perhaps she had no friends to play with here. That wouldn't surprise him though. The way she had just spoke to her guard, it was a bit pompous for a girl of her age. It would definitely throw off some people especially children.

Odin was suddenly struck by the coldness of Antoinette's eyes, like a stab of ice, "What are you doing?" Antoinette asked as the two approached her.

"Playing." Joslyn gave her a simple reply and picked up a wooden sword from the grass, "Wow... this is heavy."

"That's my brother's." Antoinette stated defiantly.

"It's okay, sister. We can all take turns." Odin said calmly, hoping Antoinette's temper had changed but it turned out hoping wasn't enough as she tossed her sword on the grass.

"I'm not playing! She's one of them." Her eyes were a cold grey, they showed no sense of kindness or compassion, or any feeling for that matter.

"One of what?" Joslyn innocently asked.

"Come on, Antoinette. It'll be much easier if you were two. I can tell you what to do."

"Why? You play with me all the time." She bit back, shrugging her shoulders.

"How many times did I end up hurting you by accident? Because of my roughness?" His eyes glimmered the color of emerald, sparkling in the light of the afternoon sun.

" _Never_!"

Odin rolled his eyes at his sister's stubbornness. There was an uncomfortable silence between the three. Antoinette had her arms crossed, and Joslyn's face was lit up with excitement still.

"You know, I've read a few things about Dorne..." Joslyn said, breaking the tension in the air. "Is it really hot there? They say your city bakes under an angry red sun."

"Yes... It is." Odin chuckled. "It is hotter than _here_ definitely."

"And women can actually be a ruler there?" She asked, raising the wooden sword to have a closer look of it.

"Yes..." Odin took note that the little girl was naturally curious.

" _Wow_... How long will you be here for?"

"Why do you care?" Antoinette finally spoke.

"Antoinette!" Odin warned, he didn't mind Joslyn being so inquisitive. Children were naturally curious, always asking questions. Just like his own sister...

"As long as it takes... The king and our father have private matters to tend to. So who really knows how long that'll be?" Odin saw the little girl staring up at him now, her focus was directly on him.

"Your eyes are beautiful... They're so green."

Her comment was so out of character, so far from what he knew of her, Odin just stared at her open mouthed. His brain formulated no thoughts other than to register that he was shocked.

"Why are you blushing?" Antoinette asked her.

"I am _not_!" Joslyn said defensively.

"Alright, alright. Stop it. Can this hate cease between the two of you? You know nothing of each other yet there is some hidden war going on between you girls." The two girls continued to glare at each other.

"Okay, lets get this started." Odin clapped his hands. He didn't want anything to escalate, especially with the queen's sister.

"Antoinette? Are willing to be nice or are you going to stand there and be a brat?" He asked.

"Fine." Antoinette sighed and went to pick up the sword she had tossed earlier.

Odin had to teach Joslyn the proper way to hold a sword first. Everything else came after; stance, how to block, twisting, turning. Hours then had turned into days.

For the first few days Joslyn complained about how heavy the wooden sword was, her dress being dirty, the sun being in her face, her hands hurting-Everything and anything she complained about, but as the days went by her complaining finally lessened.

Odin teased her and she would joke back, occasionally he would catch her blush when he would speak to her but he knew it was purely innocent.

Sometimes even Arys would join in on the sword play and gave them helpful advice without anyone asking, but it was still appreciated in the least. If he wasn't pissed drunk, he would get up and demonstrate a technique.

After spending so much time with the Lannister cub, Odin realized how much his sister and Joslyn were so much alike. They even started to sound the same, use each other's words and finished each other's sentences, even though they both denied it.

One was dark haired and the other was golden haired, but they _both_ had the most wonderful eyes-Joslyn's didn't capture light, but defied it, they were so blue that they literally glowed. Antoinette's grey eyes were very pale, as if almost all the color had been sucked out of them.

The two young girls had horrible attitudes and a dangerous _passion_ that burned through their veins for each of their family names.

Antoinette was hot-blooded, quick to anger and slow to forgive but that was common for a Dornishwoman. It had been said that the fiery and strange spices were the reason for why Dornishwomen had such hot tempers.

Joslyn's attitude was matched with hers. The world revolved around her, she saw no points of view other her own. If she was forced to yield, she assumed he or Antoinette had cheated or wasn't playing fair, no other explanations occurred to her. Then she would suddenly become defensive or even go hide in her room. Her tantrums were legendary. But most of the time she was like a well-mannered high born that spoke so properly and practiced her curtsies.

Odin never forgot that Joslyn's father was Tywin Lannister, the man who ordered his soldier Gregor Clegane to brutally murder his cousin, Elia Martell and her two children. There had been bad blood between the Lannisters and the Martells ever since. Joslyn was just a child... she wasn't even born when that had happened. She had nothing to do with it but sadly her family name will forever be remembered for such a tragedy.

Antoinette was arrogant and tenacious, while Joslyn was too innocent and naive. One was day and the other was night, always together yet forever apart. Odin couldn't decide which girl was what...The only thing that continued to get in the way of the girls forming anything of a friendship was _pride_.

* * *

"How do you expect to be able to fight properly if you can't even do the moves right during sparring?"

Joslyn stared in panic at the angered look plastered on Antoinette's face. Slightly ashamed at her performance, she looked to her feet, not being able to hold Antoinette's stare for too long.

It'd been two weeks since she started sparring with Odin and Antoinette, and while she's improved a lot, she never managed to get a upper hand over the Dornish girl. Her gowns made everything even more difficult, but thankfully she had been wearing long pants that she stole from Joffrey's room.

Quickly and deliberately, Antoinette dropped down and swept Joslyn's feet from under her.

Joslyn gasped at the unexpected attack tripping over her feet and falling on her back, head just barely scrapping the ground. The wind was knocked out of her completely, she stayed laying down, staring up at the sky with wide eyes. She could hear Arys's laughter from the distance, embarrassing her even further.

Antoinette walked over, lifting her leg up in the air before quickly bringing her heel down towards Joslyn's face. Joslyn would've screamed if she had her breath, but instead could only flinch, turning her head away in fear. This was the first time Antoinette ever aimed for her face, but Joslyn knew the girl had a strong kick that would most likely leave a bruise.

She felt a whoosh of air near her face but felt no pain afterward. Slowly, Joslyn opened her eyes and stared at the heel of Antoinette's shoe in shock before glancing to her face. Antoinette was staring down at her, her lips turned in a frown of unhappiness, before placing her foot back on the ground.

"Idiot, you didn't even do anything to block the kick. You just sat there and stared."

Joslyn couldn't stop the frustrated growl from escaping her throat. Antoinette just wouldn't give her a break, even though she had improved a lot during her few days with the two siblings. Odin would praise her for how well she was doing, and go slow when she couldn't figure out a move with the play sword or body combat.

"Maybe if you'd go easier on me until I get the hang of it instead of charging at me-like some _beast_!" Joslyn yelled.

Antoinette snapped to hers in anger, " _Yeah_? And what'll that do? My father said the only way you'll get better is if you fight someone who's better than you, and I'm better than you by far! If you're not getting the move, it's _your_ fault... not mine!"

"But I understand all the moves Odin teaches, and that's because he actually explains how to do it! How do you expect me to get this if you don't even tell me how? _I'm_ not the problem here, you're the problem by being such a terrible teacher!" Her tantrum was getting the best of her for she wanted to beat her hands on the ground like a toddler.

Antoinette's body twisted quickly, turning to stare at her incredulously. Joslyn had gotten frustrated with Antoinette many times before, but she'd never gone so far as shouting at her. A part of her couldn't help but regret her words. Antoinette had helped her, had agreed to teach her even when Odin wasn't around, and she had thrown that in her face just because she couldn't get a move down.

Antoinette's eyes narrowed at Joslyn, and she began to stalk towards her, as if she was some sort of predator who had tired of playing with its prey. Joslyn felt the blonde hairs on her neck raise in panic, and before she really knew what she was doing, she stepped back, slipping into a fighting position that Odin had taught her.

Antoinette moved towards her quicker than Joslyn expected and reached for the sleeves of her dress. Joslyn quickly ducked before she could get a good hold of her. Instincts taking over completely, Joslyn stuck her leg out and quickly spun around, only getting about half-way before she lost her balance and fell over on her knees, hands bracing herself on the ground.

Breathing heavily, she sat in the same place for a couple moments before she realized what she had done. She quickly turned around, and to her immense surprise, saw Antoinette lying on the floor, a look of disbelief on her face. Joslyn couldn't stop the surprised grin from forming on her lips.

"I can't believe it! I did it, I beat you! This is _amazing_! I never even did a move like that before, and suddenly I just bent down and-umph!"

Antoinette was looking down at her once more, but this time a satisfied smirk was playing on her lips.

"Remember our first lesson? Never let your guard down, even when you think you've beaten your opponent."

Joslyn's eyes widened in slight awe at the girl standing above her. For a mere moment, she didn't look so... angry. She looked happy-Joslyn was still unable to read her well. The irritated look in Antoinette's eyes had dissipated and had been replaced with a sharp dash of playfulness.

"I did better today. You should just admit it." Joslyn said, wiping the blades of grass off her dress.

They had both got up and started to walk towards Arys who was drinking from his wineskin and sitting down comfortably on the same fallen tree.

"It doesn't matter..." Antoinette mumbled, the same irritated look in her eyes appeared once more.

"Why can't you just admit that I did good? You can't even admit that you like me, and I know you do." Joslyn grinned, glancing at sideways at her.

"You're still your father's daughter." Her eyebrows knitted together.

"And, what does that mean?" Joslyn asked and Antoinette stopped walking facing her head on.

"You don't get it do you? What do they teach you with those history lessons? Are you so wrapped up with your sewing and singing those dumb songs about chivalrous knights that don't even exist?" She moved her hands so animatedly that someone else might've thought she was trying to swat a fly away.

"Hey! I like those songs!" Joslyn said defensively.

"You're so _stupid_!" Antoinette scowled.

"Shut up!" Joslyn barked back.

"You're a Lannister. Your father is Tywin Lannister. It's his fault my cousin's dead."

Her mouth was frozen wide open in surprise. She stumbled over her words, "I... I didn't know. I'm sorry."

" _Sorry_? Will that bring her back?" She frowned.

"I love my father. I'm sure he's made mistakes but everyone has." Joslyn stated full of pride.

"You love your father? Does _he_ love you?" Antoinette asked.

"Of _course_." Joslyn confidently raised her chin.

"Then why are you here and not at Casterly Rock with him?"

" _Enough_!"

The two girls were too engaged with their argument to even notice that they had reached Arys. He must've heard some or even most of their conversation.

"Seven _hells_ , will you two stop with your bellyaching? Damned twats are giving me a headache."

Joslyn and Antoinette didn't say a word. Arys was only intimidating when he had too much to drink and his patience was practically gone. He rarely cursed or spoke with such a harsh tone. The three started to walk back to the Red Keep in silence.

They arrived in the gardens, turning towards one another before going separate ways; Arys who had to chaperone Joslyn to her quarters, and Antoinette who will be off to find her father or brother.

Arys sighed, running a hand through his short hair, "Who won?"

Joslyn rubbed gently at the back of her neck while staring at her feet.

"I think we tied, don't you?" She mumbled.

"Yeah, I guess so..." Antoinette shrugged, her voice quiet and a frown on her face once again.

* * *

"And who are you, the proud Lord said..." Joslyn sang. Her voice was smooth and clear, quiet yet powerful for a nine year old. "That I must bow so low? Only a cat of a different coat that's all the truth I know. In a coat of Gold or coat of red, lion still has claws. And mine are long and sharp my lord, as long as sharp as yours."

Her presence seemed to buzz around Antoinette like a fly she could never swat. Every word, movement, and breath she performed infuriated her to no end. She convinced herself that the only reason she spent more and more time with her was purely out of boredom.

"Will you shut up?" Antoinette yelled. The gritty sand went between her toes as the two of them walked the edge of the Blackwater Bay. The sun made the sand sparkle like a thousand tiny gems. They had met at the usual clearing in the forest but it was occupied by men who were training. Joslyn thought of heading down to the beach, she was supposed to be with her Septa today but instead she decided to sneak off unnoticed.

Joslyn let out a loud sigh and instead of singing, she continued to hum the song.

Antoinette found a white seashell that was going to make a great addition to the sand castle she built. She liked this part of King's Landing, maybe the only thing she liked here. It definitely smelled better too, seaweed and salt filled the humid air. In a way, it reminded her of Sunspear when her father would bring her and Odin to the shore of the Narrow Sea. The Narrow Seas were known for whirlpools and infested with sharks and kraken. They would watch the sun set in the east as their father would tell them stories of the broken arm of Dorne, the stepping stones as others would call it.

"You can't sing?" Joslyn suddenly asked her and Antoinette responded with a shake of her head.

"I can teach you!" Joslyn said excitedly, "You've showed me all sorts of things, you and Odin. Maybe I can show you how to-"

"I don't like that song."

It was a famous song in Westeros, the "anthem" of sorts for House Lannister, dedicated to Tywin Lannister in particular. A song for House Lannister would be the last thing she'd sing.

"That's fine. A different song then. I can even write one for you."

"No thanks." Thankfully, that ceased the conversation from going any further. They continued along the shore collecting more seashells rocks, and sand to build each of their own castle. It was quiet save for the occasional crashing of the waves against the rocks. The silence didn't last for too long as Joslyn continued to sing once again.

"And who are you? The proud lord said, that I must bow so low..."

"Oh my dearest aunt." A mocking voice said from behind them.

Both of them turned to the direction of the voice. A boy, no older than they were, walking across the sand with an arrogant smirk plastered on his pale face. Following close behind him was his sworn shield known as the Hound. Antoinette remembered him when she had first arrived at King's Landing. The only man that can frighten her so. The left side of his face was a ruin. All around it was a twisted mass of scar, pocked with craters and fissured by deep cracks that gleamed red and wet when he spoke. Down by his jaw was a hint of bone.

"I knew that was your voice I heard... I almost mistake it for a shrieking babe." There was just something so horribly empty about him, so terrifying about the cruel smile that played about his lips.

"Shut up, Joffrey!"

Joffrey. Joslyn's nephew and the Queen's eldest son, golden haired like the rest of her children.

"Lets hear you sing, then!" Joslyn challenged. Her face fell as Joffrey locked his eyes on hers.

"Princes don't sing. And do not speak of me that way.. You should _respect_ me."

He was deliberately taunting her now. Joslyn's face had turned red as she sat back down on the sand focusing intently on her castle.

"Playing with the dirt like the mutt you are."

Still, Joslyn refused to acknowledge him. She looked almost, defeated. Antoinette felt herself getting angry. She narrowed her ash colored eyes and looked brazenly up at Joffrey.

" _What_? Do you have something to say?" He chuckled after receiving only a death-like stare in return from her.

"Where there are mutts...there are fleas." Joffrey let out a short laugh.

"Says the ones that's always around a _dog_." The words came pouring out from her mouth, she was in more shock than the rest of them. A shadow fell across her face. She turned to find the Hound looming overhead like a cliff. His soot-dark armor seemed to blot out the sun.

"Watch your mouth, child." His voice rasped from above.

"Do you know who you're talking to, girl?" Joffrey's eyes pierced right through Antoinette, those cold blues eyes of his. "You cannot speak to me that way. I am the _Prince_."

"No. You're leaving." Antoinette crossed her arms. She wasn't going to have this boy scare her into silence as he did with Joslyn. She was stronger than that.

Joffrey's eyes never left hers as he stood there in shock, his mouth opened. Joslyn stood.

"Leave." Antoinette said. His flowery perfume made her feel as though she were choking on feathers.

"Or what?" demanded Joffrey, "What power do you hold over the prince?"

Antoinette suddenly kicked sand at him.

" _Leave_!" Her voice was louder, clearer, and much more confident than before.

"You little _bitch_." Joffrey spat at her, marching towards her. Antoinette stood her ground, she braced herself for his violent vengeance.

"Leave her alone Joffrey!" Joslyn stepped directly in front of Antoinette blocking Joffrey from coming closer but he simply shoved Joslyn out of the way causing her to fall right onto her bottom.

The Hound roughly grabbed hold of Joffrey's shoulder. Antoinette took this opportunity to scoop up a handful of sand, tossing it directly into the prince's face. His hands flew to his face, screaming and wailing from the pain in his eyes.

"I'm telling mother!" He screamed and blindly tried to scramble away, the sand slowing him down.

"Get up!" the Hound grabbed Joslyn from the scruff of her dress lifting her onto her feet.

He then turned to Antoinette. She held her breath as the Hound's face became impassive as he stepped closer to her, bending down to her eye level. Antoinette cringed and fixed her gaze on the clasp of his armor; anything to avoid his terrible face.

His voice grumble out a harsh whisper, "You will do best to remember you are only a _guest_ here."

He stood straight and stormed off towards Joffrey.

As Joffrey glared back once more with his sparkling blue eyes, eyes like the Queen's, Antoinette felt a shiver run through her body causing goosebumps to rise up from her skin.

"Are you okay?" Joslyn asked, her eyes in search of any bodily harm on Antoinette.

"Of course. Are _you_?" _She_ was the one who was knocked down.

"Yes, I am fine. We should probably go back now. Joffrey is going to tell my sister, I know it. We both will get into trouble!"

Antoinette wouldn't admit out loud that she was as scared as Joslyn, maybe even _more_ than she was. She promised her father that she would stay out of trouble and whatever business he had here with the King. She started to regret what she had done to Joffrey as they started to walk back to the Red Keep.

"Thanks for defending me."

Antoinette looked at Joslyn as if she was insane. "I wasn't defending you."

Joslyn rolled her eyes. "Well... I tried defending you."

"Did you? By falling on your ass?" Antoinette asked mockingly. She laughed at Joslyn's sudden flush of embarrassment on her face. "I didn't need you to defend me. I can handle your nephew... He's just another spoiled brat."

She remembered the first the day Joslyn had walked up to her, speaking so snobby and prideful. Just like Joffrey had just done... But even though she had just met and spoke to him for such a short amount of time she could tell they were _nothing_ alike.

"Why did he call you a mutt?"

"He always calls me mutt... and other names."

"Yes, but why?" Antoinette could see the back entrance of the kitchens which they had went through earlier to go out to Blackwater Bay. They finally reached the Keep.

"I guess because I am a bastard." Joslyn continued to look ahead in the distance.

"But your last name is of your family's." Antoinette said confused.

In Dorne, if a bastard was born, he or she was given the name Sand. Just as she and her brother were. She knew in different parts of Westeros, bastards were given different surnames but she never knew of a bastard having the same last name of their own parent.

"My father gave me his last name." Joslyn answered.

"So, they aren't married?"

"Who?" Joslyn asked.

Antoinette resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Your mother and father."

"No." Joslyn said, her voice getting quieter. "My mother is dead."

"So then they were never married?"

Joslyn sighed. "No... they never were."

"I don't understand how you have the Lannister name if they were never married."

"Look who's asking all the questions now." Joslyn grinned.

Antoinette's questions were left unanswered. They both fell into a silence as they proceeded to walk through the kitchen without being spotted out by the wrong person. Antoinette definitely had caused enough trouble for the day.


	3. What's In A Name?

**Chapter 3: What's In A Name?**

* * *

King's Landing had not changed. Court, the people, the streets, they were all as he remembered them. He spent his mornings and afternoons with the King. When evening came, his children would join him at his solar for supper. Spending time with his family will always remain a priority no matter what Kingdom he was at.

That night, Odin had excused himself retiring early to his chambers, exhausted from the day with the king and his father.

The room was silent except for the occasional sound of Lewyn's fork and knife scrapping the bottom of his plate. He cut chunks of braised boar belly and placed it into his mouth. Prince Lewyn noticed how oddly quiet his daughter was during dinner.

Antoinette silently poked at her food with her fork. She had barely said a word or touched her food since she had sat down. Lewyn began to suspect something was troubling his daughter. She always spoke of her days with her new found Lannister friend but tonight, she resumed her silence.

He continued to stare across the table at his daughter. She looked so much like her mother, Nhya.

It was a closely held secret that he kept a paramour despite the kingsguard oaths of chastity. While serving King Aerys in King's Landing, he was to travel to Dorne once a year to ensure King Aery's business in Dorne was secure. During one of his travels to Dorne in Planky Town, Lewyn's attention was caught by Nhya Folmer. She was just a merchant girl from Lemonwood selling fruit with her father. She had long thick black hair with grey eyes that shined blue in the Dornish sun. Her skin was sun-kissed and flawess with a thin, delicate body.

She was known to be a rare beauty. No flower, no goddess could compare with her beauty. When their eyes met for the first time, it truly was love at first sight. Because of her, he had bought over a dozen fruit that they didn't need just to continue to speak to her. He smiled at the memory, but looked at his daughter who was still fighting something that was on her mind.

"Something troubles you nuha gevives." He finally said.

"No, father I am fine." She didn't look at him but continued to stare down at her plate.

"I can see it on your face. In your eyes... What is wrong?"

"I wanted to ask you something." She finally raised her head to look at him straight on.

"Ask me anything." He took a drink of wine from his cup before placing it back down on the table.

"Why don't we have your last name?"

Lewyn's mouth opened but no words came out. He didn't know how to explain to his nine year old daughter. She was at the age that her curiosity had reached its peaked and she was determined to find the answers to settle her impertinent mind.

"It's difficult to explain, Antoinette. It is different here for bastards than it is in Dorne. In Dorne, having children out of wedlock is not looked down upon like it is here. Here, the people say bastards are born out of lust and weakness, they consider it a sin...We look at our children as blessings, married or not. YOU were born of passion and _love._ "

"I don't understand. Joslyn has her father's name...She told me her parents were never even wed." She stared at Lewyn with her big grey eyes. Eyes like her mother.

"Yes, because her father asked the king to legitimize her." He answered.

"Why didn't you ask the king then?"

"The king would not grant me such a favor even if I asked for it."

"If he knows you love us... why wouldn't he?" She asked, her voice full of innocence.

The simplest questions were the hardest to answer.

He finally needed to tell his daughter the truth now. She was old enough to finally understand. It seemed as if it was just yesterday he had taught her to say her first word. She grew up right before his eyes.

"He's allowed so much already. I was in the kingsguard when I met your mother. I loved her endlessly, but that didn't change the fact I broke an oath."

"So you _didn't_ retire?" A sudden frown formed on her face, he could tell this news had upset her.

"No... I did not. I was dismissed by King Robert. Being in the kingsguard is for _life_. I was not allowed to father any children."

"Why did _Joslyn_ have to take her father's name?" Her attempt to keep things light already waning as Lewyn heard the jealousy of her friend laced in her voice.

"Joslyn needed to be legitimized to be accepted by the people here, to be _accepted_ and _loved_ even by her own family. But my daughter, who you _are_ is more important than being who others _expect_ you to be. The child does not know of her mother, nor will she ever. If she didn't bare the Lannister name, she would be cast aside. It is all about the social stigma here. Do you understand the difference? We acknowledge our children. In Dorne, no one looked at you different for being a Sand. You suddenly became curious of this since we arrived in King's Landing. Bastards are _always_ respected in Dorne. They are looked down upon here, everything and everyone is seen differently. I have granted you and Odin the freedom to make your own decisions, to live freely and do what pleases you. Not what pleases others." He explained with a wave of his hand. Antoinette's face finally softened. No longer was there a frown etched across her face, but a look of understanding.

"You and Odin, could be anyone you'd want to be. I gave you a privilege of a lifetime to be who you are. You are perfect exactly how you are. With all your flaws and problems, there's no need to change anything. A name is but a name, that is all. You are still my daughter, my flesh and blood. Antoinette Sand of House Martell... what are our words?" He reached over and grasped her little hands in his.

"Unbowed. Unbent. Unbroken." She spoke the words so softly.

A knock on the door suddenly caused Lewyn to look away, releasing his daughter's hands. Lewyn rose quickly, wondering who it would be at this time. He opened the door to see a Lannister guard.

"The Queen requests your presence in the hall...your daughter as well."

"What business does the Queen have with my daughter?"

* * *

They descended the steps to the small hall in silence. The room was empty except for a few Lannister soldiers, he saw no gold cloaks. Cersei Lannister and her son stood in front. The queen had her hand on Joffrey's shoulder and beside her was Joslyn. Her face was stained with streaks and her hair in disarray, evidence that she had been crying. An unsettling feeling began welling inside of him. His eyes swept the room, searching for friendly faces. There was something wrong in the room. The atmosphere was dense and strange.

"Your grace." Lewyn gave a quick bow, "What is the meaning of this?"

The queen stepped forward. "That girl of yours assaulted my son. She threw sand in his face today."

His body tensed. Perhaps legitimacy wasn't the only thing on his daughter's mind at dinner. He stared ahead at the golden haired children. The boy prince was gritting his teeth, glaring down at Antoinette. While Joslyn continued to avoid eye contact as she sank her chin into her chest. He could see a few drops of tears falling off her face.

"Where is the king? Surely he would want to be present for this."

"The king is very busy at the moment." Cersei regarded him cooly.

"I see..." Lewyn spoke slowly, nodding his head as he thought about if the accusations against his daughter were . "Is this true, Antoinette? Did you do this?"

Antoinette frowned raising her chin up. "He was being mean. Me and Joslyn was playing down at the beach and he started to bother us. He even called me a flea!" Her eyes were now burning with wrath.

"A flea?" Lewyn asked, tipping his head to the side.

"He called me a mutt!" Joslyn finally spoke. She blinked at Antoinette, then up at her queen sister.

"You are a mutt!" Joffrey's voice echoed throughout the room. His nostrils flared and his fists clenched at his sides.

"SHUT UP!" Joslyn yelled.

"He wouldn't leave us alone!" Antoinette exclaimed.

"If that were to be true, what gives you the right to act out so viciously towards your prince?" The queen asked, her eyes fixed and heavily focused on Antoinette.

"He pushed me!" Joslyn bit back, her face now a shade of a deep red.

"He wouldn't _leave_." Antoinette looked down at her feet, her dark wild hair falling forward acting as curtain for her face. Silence washed over them as Lewyn, Joslyn, Joffrey, and the queen were now staring at her. "So... I threw a little sand at him." She mumbled nervously.

Lewyn smiled at his daughter. She was so calm and innocent at times, but there were times like this when her passionate Dornish temper got the best of her _._

"I'm sorry, but do you find this amusing Ser Lewyn?" Cersei asked Lewyn.

"Antoinette was just defending me." Joslyn said, her mouth forming a small pout.

"How dare you, my son does not speak lies." The queen spat. "Joff told me what happened. He wanted to play with his aunt and the girl suddenly became _vigilant_." She glared down at Joslyn. Her eyes looked so cold, like her stare could freeze the whole kingdom in a moment.

Just then the doors flew open. King Robert's boots stomped on the hall's floors, his face was livid. His gold cloaks followed closely behind him. Silence fell once again.

"What is this?" The King asked, he glowered at each and every one of them. His eyes resting on Cersei.

Lewyn quickly gave a small bow to the King before he answered with a calm voice, "Your grace. The queen requested our presence."

"Your son, was attacked by his daughter today." Cersei answered, repulsed by Antoinette's actions.

" _Attacked_? In what way?" King Robert asked.

Cersei explained Joffrey's story, Antoinette and Joslyn ceased their interruptions since the King arrived.

"Nonsense. Children play." King Robert said after Cersei told the story. "They get hurt all the time. He should do well to play with boys and not little girls!"

" _Children_ play, but what she did has no excuse."

"Throwing sand in his face? Maybe he shouldn't bother the girl then." He glared at Joffrey, his face darkened with anger. "Next time don't stand so close."

The king was in no more mood for more argument. "Apologize to each other and end this already! I don't want to hear anymore damn nuisance from any of you!"

The queen was furious. "What about the girls, Robert? They will cause more trouble being together. Perhaps, they should be separated until Prince Lewyn takes his leave."

It all took them a while to comprehend her words, "Seven hells, woman! What do you have me do? Barricade them in their chambers and force them to play with their dolls all day?"

"Their friendship must stand. It has nothing to do with our dealings your Grace." Prince Lewyn finally protested.

They were only children. They were innocent and saw past the evil that took place between both houses of Lannister and Martell. The two girls were bound together by common values. They were both born as bastards but still knew that each of their families were the most important thing in this world.

Whatever fierce ongoing hatred Cersei Lannister had for House Martell, so be it. She wouldn't stand between his daughter or her unique friendship she had built with the Lannister bastard.

The king looked at them for a long moment. "Right. Now, let's here you all apologize hurry now, I have a wine to finish before this night is over!"

After a moment of some hesitation, Joslyn was the first to apologize "I'm sorry." She said quietly, her pale blue eyes glistened.

"You will do better and not act so childish." Cersei scolded her.

"We're children. We're _supposed_ to act childish." She mumbled, earning another cold glare from the queen.

Antoinette and Joffrey's apologies were both forced. The old familiar burn singed Lewyn's skin when the King finally dismissed them. Lewyn hated the feeling in his gut. If King Robert wasn't there what would've happened? Something so small was made into such a big deal.

The queen's last words to his daughter rang through his head as he finally set his head down in bed.

"Next time, sweetling, be mindful. To shame one of us, is to shame all of us." She said with a diabolical smile.

* * *

After getting into trouble the other day, Antoinette agreed to learn how to play the harp and maybe sing a song or two with Joslyn. How much trouble could they possibly cause from playing with the harps?

Antoinette followed Joslyn to her quarters, not knowing what to expect.

Everything in her room were of House Lannister colors, gold and deep red. It was the color of blood, but not the vivid red of the freshly spilled, but more the browning red of old blood. In the middle stood a grand four poster bed with a red canopy draped on top of the wooden posts. The bed had been neatly covered with a red blanket of hand-knitted lions of bright gold wool, underneath was a gold coverlet. Her house sigil hung above the head of her bed.

The walls were a dark stone with dark mahogany wooden floors. There were huge painted tapestries hung up of golden lions, knights, and ladies. On the other side of the room was a writing desk, a small fire place, a changing screen with her bath behind it, and a small balcony. The deep red made the room dark even in the day light, but she noticed there were candles all along the stoned walls and her tables. They must have been lit as the days became darker. The room was too spacious. Too dark. It almost felt... _lonely_. It didn't look as if a child resided here. Antoinette saw a few books, no dolls or any wooden toys. There were no vibrant colors to inspire, excite, soothe, or heal a child. The dark red almost engulfed the entire room.

Joslyn led her out onto the terracotta tiled balcony, below they could see the gardens in full bloom. There was a garden bench and a cement table on the balcony which Antoinette and Joslyn sat across from each other. Two harps were set outside for them that were brought in by Joslyn's handmaid.

Antoinette yanked at the strings of the harp, trying to make it work.

"It doesn't even work!" Antoinette said, pulling a string again.

Joslyn stood and walked over to Antoinette. She held Antoinette's hand back before she could pull anymore,

"Stop doing that, you'll ruin the strings."

Turning to the strings, she fixed the strings Antoinette had pulled out. Running her fingers along the strings wistfully, she sat down on the bench beside her and started softly playing a tune.

Joslyn's fingers were light as they danced nimbly on the strings. Antoinette gazed at Joslyn in wide-eyes astonishment.

"How long did it take for you to learn?" Antoinette asked impressed. Shouldn't a harp be much easier to learn rather than the twists, turns, blocks and swings of sword fighting?

In Dorne, all the children whether it was boys or girls, started to learn weaponry and self-defense at a very young age. She swore she was only five when she picked up her first sparring sword. She had been gifted the skill to fight as her fellow Dornishmen did. But then again, a sword and a harp were two completely different things.

"A day or two. Why?" Joslyn stopped strumming the strings.

"You're a liar." She had always been a quick learner but it took her months, years even to master something.

"I swear on the seven! I don't lie. I _had_ to. My septa forced me to learn until my fingers were numb and practically _bleeding_." She let out a soft laugh. "She has no patience."

Suddenly, a black figure pounced on top of the concrete table causing Antoinette to jump back a little before quickly realizing it was just a cat. She could hear it purring as it rubbed its face against Joslyn's feline's fur was black and bushy, its yellow eyes contrasting and almost glowing.

"Don't be frightened." Joslyn smiled as she scratched behind the cat's ear, resting the harp against her lap. "This is my cat, Lady Fuzz."

She remembered just a few weeks ago Joslyn had mentioned Lady Fuzz to she and her brother but she never thought anything of it since she never would have imagined meeting it or even being in her room weeks later.

She had told Antoinette she had stumbled upon it one day in the gardens. She fed it in secret, the queen forbid her to have a stray inside her chambers. Joslyn told her she would feed it scraps of food and milk at the garden or even outside on her balcony.

"Why is it so fat?" Antoinette reached a hand out and waited for it to smell her first before running her hand through the cat's slick black fur.

"She's pregnant." Joslyn ran her hand across its back, its tail curving along her forearm.

Antoinette felt the cat's stomach, the denseness of her fur was practically covering it. Lady Fuzz suited her well. After a few more strokes, it lightly jumped off from the table and sat in a shaded corner on the balcony. It started to lick its paws and bath itself.

Antoinette listened to Joslyn's own music as she started again. She tried to copy her and attempted to strum the strings at the same pace.

Antoinette simply was not gifted in this area-she lacked the tone and basic rhythm. To add weight to this fact, she did not feel the music and the notes that passed from her fingers slipper and wobbled away dismally.

Joslyn sighed heavily and stopped. "Antoinette, you're holding the harp wrong."

" _What_?" Antoinette looked at the positioning of her hands on the instrument. "How do you hold a harp incorrectly?"

Learning the strings was boring and she would rather have been playing outside but this kept them out of trouble. It took hours for Antoinette to finally play a good tune. It wasn't perfect, but she tried and it sounded better than her first time. She enjoyed the time spent with Joslyn even though most of the time they were arguing about almost everything. It had always felt like a constant competition between the two, but playing the harp and listening to the beautiful sounds it created with a touch of a finger was less intimidating. Joslyn wasn't judging her for poor playing nor was she losing her patience as Antoinette did when they would spar.

The music actually helped them bond together. She hated to admit it, but she finally grew fond of the Lannister bastard.

"Now... I am going to sing a song. Then _you're_ going to sing with me. I will play it on the harp, and you will sing with me. Do you understand?" Joslyn asked.

"I don't know how to sing." Antoinette said.

"And _I_ didn't know how to hold a sword properly-but you taught me. Besides, you're a _lady_... you should learn how to sing!"

Joslyn stringed her harp and sang, clear and beautiful, the notes resounding in the stillness.

 _It's always summer_

 _Under the sea._

 _I know, I know._

 _Oh, ohh, ohhh._

 _The birds have scales and the fish take wing._

 _I know, I know. Oh, ohh, ohhh_

With a nod of her head, Joslyn signaled Antoinette to join in before singing the same chorus over again. They took deep breaths in unison, before singing as clear as they could.

 _It's always summer_

 _Under the sea._

 _I know, I know._

 _Oh, ohh, ohhh._

 _The birds have scales and the fish take wing._

 _I know, I know. Oh, ohh, ohhh_

Antoinette didn't know she had a beautiful voice, exotic as was her speaking voice. She was shocked at hearing herself. She felt silly even being nervous about it. She might have not been great at the harp today, but at least she did learn something else. She could sing.

Joslyn had stopped singing and continued to play as Antoinette sang the song over and over again.

At the end of the song, Antoinette heard clapping resounding from behind. She turned.

"Bravo! You sing exceptionally well." A dwarf stood at the door of the balcony. Lady Fuzz purred and brushed herself at his stunted legs. He had a grin plastered on his face and had finally ceased his clapping. His head was too large for his body, with a brute squashed-in face beneath a swollen shelf of brow. Blue eyes peered out from under a lank fall of golden hair.

Antoinette knew who he was the second she saw him. Joslyn's older brother Tyrion Lannister. The Imp. The demon monkey. The half-man. A dwarf born into the most powerful and richest family in the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros.

"Tyrion!" Joslyn screamed in excitement dropping her harp on the floor to run towards the stunted man known as Tyrion. She crouched low and threw her arms over him, both embracing each other in a tight hug.

"I've missed you, brother." Joslyn murmured into his neck. "I don't think you know how much..."

"I know you did. I felt it." The two siblings released each other. The dwarf placed a kiss on both of Joslyn's cheeks. "I've missed you more than there are stars in the sky and fish in the sea!"

Antoinette felt her chest tighten. She had never seen Joslyn so happy, she looked at the dwarf-man as if he was the most amazing man in all the kingdoms. Anyone who saw how Joslyn looked at him knew that she adored her older brother. It must have been the same look she would give to her own brother then. He was her own blood, her big strong brother. She loved him for almost everything he was and it was a given fact Joslyn felt the same of her own sibling.

"How much of what I have heard about my beloved sister joining swordplay is true?"

Joslyn smiled, "It's nothing serious, brother. Antoinette's been teaching me. She's my friend!"

"I can't imagine the look on my sister's face, when she heard that you engaged in a manner that a lady would not?" He teased her.

"She expects me to sew, and take my dance lessons every single day. You must understand, brother it gets boring!" Joslyn whined.

"You are right. Where is the fun in being a proper lady?" he smiled. "You've got your entire life to be a proper lady and work on manners and bear children, and please a husband-you are a child, and shouldn't children have fun?"

Tyrion and Joslyn sauntered over to Antoinette who stood up to greet the dwarf. He cocked his oversized head to one side and looked at Antoinette.

"Where _are_ my manners? Do forgive me. Are you the bastard daughter of Prince Lewyn?" His blue eyes focused on Antoinette.

"Yes, I am Antoinette Sand. It's a pleasure to meet you." Antoinette smiled down at him and extended her hand out.

"Well, you are a lucky one aren't you? Not many bastards are quite as fortunate as you." Tyrion said to her. "Coincidently enough, we have another bastard amongst us who had been just as blessed as you."

He gave a quick glance to Joslyn acknowledging that he was speaking of her, as he took Antoinette's small hand in his and kissed it gently. Her hand was the same size as his.

"If you didn't know already, I am Tyrion Lannister, son of Tywin Lannister." He said proudly.

Lannisters and their _pride_.. Antoinette resisted to roll her eyes. She ignored the feeling of her stomach dropping at the mention of his _father's_ name.

"I know you are. My brother spoke of you." Odin had told her that people compared the dwarf to a monster and considered him a bad omen. She saw _nothing_ of a monster in front of her.

"Good things, I hope? I've also had the honor to meet your father and your _brother_. Interesting boy, I must say. I see us getting along quite well."

Tyrion had spent the rest of the afternoon with them. Listening as the girls took turns singing and playing the harp. He even shared stories of his travels along the seven kingdoms. His experience at Dorne Antoinette had found the most _amusing_.

Her face felt so numb from smiling, the sides of her stomach pained for laughing _so_ hard. She had never countered someone in her _life_ that made her laugh _that_ hard.

She was skeptical of Tyrion at first. As she was with Joslyn, just because of her relation to the _Lannister_ name. It was odd for her to make a connection so fast, to give her trust so easily, tentative though it was. There was something in the way Tyrion smiled, a _warmth_ , a genuineness, a softness of spirit she just couldn't pass up. He listened like he was absorbing her words, not simply getting her "turn" over and done with so he could return to some other topic. She understood why Joslyn was so fond of her Imp brother. The more time she spent with him the _more_ her spirit lifted. As the skies aflamed with the setting sun, she had befriended another _Lannister_.

* * *

Though their _friendship_ had a bit of a rocky _start_ , Antoinette's friendship with Joslyn continued to grow. It always started the same. Sometime during the morning, they would cross paths and their eyes would meet. Subtle smiles, the simples of gestures, and plans were made. Their meeting place was at the isolated clearing at the godswood.

It was a beautiful day and the sun was shining, its rays filtering through the tree branches of the forest. The scent of pine drifted through the air.

"And now you're dead." Antoinette remarked with a smile as the wood of the small sword in her hand came to rest gently against Joslyn's neck.

Joslyn huffed and folded her arms against her chest, the wooden sword in the hand falling to the grass as she sulked in defeat. Antoinette playfully laughed at the golden-haired Lannister pouting.

"Now... don't cry!" Arys teased, his deep laughter booming in the air. He was standing under a tree, his back leaning against its trunk. Joslyn relaxed and joined in their laughter.

"Pick up your sword and try again!" Odin encouraged as Joslyn's small fingers grabbed the handle of the sword again.

Their laughter was short lived, instead it was replaced with the snapping sound of twigs being crushed behind them.

"Ah... Sword play." An unknown male voice came from behind, and Antoinette nearly jumped out of her skin.

All four whipped their heads around. The birds have ceased to sing no more as did their laughter and all smiles vanquished just as quickly.

There stood Ser Jaime Lannister, the "Kingslayer". Bright blue eyes, golden haired, and _handsome_. Tall with a smile that can cut like a knife. He wore the gold and silver kingsguard armor, white cloak tailing in the back of him.

"It looks to me as if someone has been neglecting their duties." Jaime gave a sly _smirk_ , running his gloved fingers through his golden hair. The Dornish girl froze, her heart dropped. _Were they in trouble?_

Arys visibly tensed, "Ser Jaimie, I was-"

"Jaime!" Joslyn ran to her brother who swept her into a hug, completely oblivious to the unwelcomed tension between Jaime and Arys. Her feet left the ground as Jaime lifted her in his arms.

"I wonder what your sister would say if she saw you fighting with the King's guests?" Jaime asked as he set Joslyn back down. Jaime kept smiling at Arys and his eyes slowly drifting to Odin. Both of them frozen in place.

"Ser Jaime, she insisted-" Arys tried to explain.

"So you let a little girl command you?" He had a smug smirk on his face. A smirk radiated arrogance and pride. His _pride_ infuriated Antoinette to no end. The same _pride_ that Joslyn had. _The Lannisters were proud._

"You, boy." Ever so slowly, the King Slayer took a step towards Odin. His hand relaxed on the hilt of his sword that hung from his waist.

"What have you been teaching my lovely sister?" Antoinette did _not_ trust his Jaime's saccharine tone. She hated the sound of his voice.

"Nothing, Ser. We've just been playing, nothing serious." Odin answered with respect and confidence. He kept his head up and did not dare to break the intimidating stare he was receiving from the Kingslayer.

" _Right_. So, the wooden swords are for looks then?" He asked, his voice heavy with sarcasm.

"Brother, they're my friends." Joslyn said as she stood in place.

Unfazed, Jaime didn't break his eye contact with Odin. He had a curious look in his eyes. He truly looked like a lion stalking his prey.

"What is your name?" The golden-haired Lannister asked.

"Odin, Odin Sand of House Martell." Odin replied back.

"Lets see what you've been teaching, or learned per say..." Jaime arched a golden brow.

Odin looked uneasy but he tried to control the tremor in his voice to a degree. "But Ser, that wouldn't be proper."

"Are you questioning me?" Jaime asked; his tone shifting to dangerous. "Pick up the sword."

He didn't make it a choice, it was a _command_. Her brother was clad casual outfit, his tunic fastened with a leather belt. He wasn't in proper armor as Ser Jaime was. It wasn't _fair_. She knew better not to speak out of turn as continued to remain silent. Antoinette thought of the KingSlayer more of a bully. Nothing like _Tyrion_. He and the Queen truly were twins. They both had a superiority with their presence it seemed.

"Pick up the sword, _boy_."

Antoinette saw a flash of anger in her brother's green eyes as Jaime spat out "boy". He was purposely antagonizing her brother. She felt the familiar anger boiling through her Dornish veins.

Hesitantly, Odin finally crouched for the wooden sword that was placed on the grass. Jaime placed his foot on the sword, holding it down.

"No not that one." He said, looking at Odin who was still crouched down. "His."

He motioned at Arys who quickly unsheathed his own sword from waist. Antoinette looked in shock, as did Joslyn. Antoinette knew her brother too well.

"Brother, you can't." Antoinette said, panic stricken.

"Quiet, Antoinette." Odin took the sword, testing the balance and the weight of it before turning to Jaime.

"When you're in a real battle, you won't be fighting with a wooden sword I hope?" Jaime remarked, his smirk plastered on his face once again.

Everything happened so fast. Jaime and Odin circled each other. Either combatant refused to yield to each other. Antoinette could see the glint of sweat reflecting off Jaime's forehead in the sunlight, which casted a mysterious, dark shadow upon his handsome features. He was tiring, she noted.

The two men remained in their solid stances for tense seconds, before Odin raised his sword and charged at Jaime's unguarded side. If Odin were battling against any ordinary man, he would have been skewered to the hilt of his blade. But, the Kingslayer was no ordinary man, and so- unsurprisingly- Odin's strike met with thin air and he momentarily faltered before spinning to meet Jaime's counter. The two fighters began to exchange blow after blow, strike after strike, parry after parry.

Antoinette's stomached shifted uneasily as she watched her older brother fight the infamous "King Slayer" with _real_ steel. She noticed that the hands that she hugged herself with were pinching into her skin. She released her hands but then she couldn't figure out what to do with them, so instead they clasped and unclasped each other as if in constant need of reassurance. Reassurance that her brother won't get hurt... he will be just _fine_.

Odin struggled against Jaime's force and strength behind his attacks, countering with his own agility. Odin darted between Jaime's swings and Jaime easily anticipated every one of Odin's moves. This, however only resulted in his blade once again against Odin's, and prolonged the exhausting fight.

Odin stubbornly held his ground, quivering as he slid back upon force.

Suddenly Odin kicked at his knees with a cry, making Jaime stumble back and lower his guard just for a moment.

He took the opportunity to strike, and at the last fraction of a second, Jaime sensed his movement and caught Odin's sword hand with his off hand.

"Jaime! Stop!" Joslyn shouted. She made a run towards the two men but Arys was too quick. He quickly grabbed onto Joslyn, holding her back as she continued to shout for her brother to stop.

Jaime suddenly pulled Odin over his shoulder and flipped him onto the grass below. He held his sword under Odin's chin, panting.

Anger boiled deep in Antoinette's system, as hot as the _angry_ sun that shined down upon Dorne. It churned within, hungry for destruction, and she knew it was too much for her to handle. She grinded her teeth and began to _run_ towards her brother. The blood pounded in her head as she sprinted towards them.

"You leave him alone!" She hissed, her eyes deep grey and frightened.

Antoinette grabbed Jaime's white cape trying so desperately to tear him away from her brother. Jaime sheathed his sword before he turned around to face the bastard girl.

"My, aren't you feisty for such a little girl? Such trouble." He laughed at her and it absolutely prickled her skin.

She then tried her hardest to shove the Lannister. He grabbed both of her arms in one hand. She began writhing around, to get out of his tight hold. Words flew from her mouth that she never thought she'd even think, let alone say out loud. His playful smile had drawn into a hard line across his face.

"And just what do you hope to achieve?" Jaime asked as Antoinette tried to muster all her strength to kick, bite, hit, anything to harm the man who hurt her brother.

"Let me go," she hissed.

"No." he replied; sounding slightly amused.

She stared into his startlingly beautiful blue eyes as his own _eyes_ studied her. His gaze was indifferent scathing. It was somehow _worse_ than Joffrey's.

Odin finally had stood and took a struggling Antoinette from Jaime's grasp. His pride hurt from being defeated in front of his little sister.

"You shouldn't had done that!" He said as Jaime went to collect his own little sister.

It turned out that the king slayer came for Joslyn. Her Lord Father had just arrived at King's Landing. Joslyn gave a sympathetic look over her shoulder at the two Dorne siblings as Arys and Jaime escorted her back to the Red Keep.

Antoinette _hated_ Jaime Lannister as much as she hated the Queen and the prince.


	4. The Truth

**Chapter 4: The Truth**

* * *

Parents choose to love or not love their kids. All love was done by choice.

Joslyn had the same motherless upbringing as her older half-siblings Jaime, Cersei, and Tyrion. She knew as she grew up, she may forget things her father _said_ to her. But she won't ever forget how he made her _feel_.

Her father was Tywin Lannister. The _head_ of house Lannister, the _Lord_ of Casterly Rock, _Shield_ of Lannisport, and _Warden_ of the West. Tywin Lannister was an aging, battle worn man. He had picked the Lannister name from the dirt and turned it into the one of the richest and most well respected families in the whole of Westeros. He was a cold, intelligent, arrogant, calculating and ruthless man, a number of these traits passed on his four children.

"Why were you tussling around like street urchins?" were her father's words when he found out about the swordplay with Antoinette.

Jaime hadn't told their father what had happened earlier in the godswood. It seemed that _someone_ had informed him of Joslyn's misfits with her new-found Dornish friend. Tywin glared at Joslyn but did not look to be surprised at all.

Joslyn bit her tongue. She remembered one of her most important lessons: _A lady is seen not heard. A gift for the eyes, not ears._ Had she not been so dutiful to her lady lessons, she could have protested "She is my friend, we were only playing!"

Joslyn stood perfectly still under her father's scrutiny. She was brought into her father's temporary solar and he scarcely lifted his head from his desk as he focused on a writing a letter.

Her father was a tall, slender, broad-shouldered man in his fifties. He head was shaved ever since he started to bald but grew out a grey goatee, and his blue eyes were flecked with green. He wore a deep crimson leather tunic with a cloth-of-gold cape over his shoulder.

She nervously wrung her hands in front of her while Tywin blatantly ignored the fact that he brought a great amount of discomfort upon his daughter. Joslyn sighed, and told herself there was nothing to _fear_. Her father loved her. That is why he had such a high expectation of her. He wanted her to be at her absolute _best_. All fathers want their daughters to be exceptional. Any parent pushed their children.

At least this is what she told herself. Because believing in anything other than that only succeeds in breaking her heart. What child wants to believe that their father did not love them? _None_. Especially not when said child idolized her father as much as she did.

Taking note of the displeased look on Tywin's face, Joslyn worried her brow and frowned. "Father, is there something else wrong? Is the dress not to your liking?" She worried. "I can have Erith fetch me another if you like?" Joslyn cursed herself for never being better.

She bit her lip as the sting of failure washed over. She could never seem to do anything that made her father happy. She never even seen him smile. And really, that's all she truly wanted, her father's approval.

"Perhaps a darker red would be more appropriate." She said.

She'll never be good enough. She'll never fit in. Perhaps she was being selfish but if it weren't for Tyrion, though, _she_ would not only be known as the bastard-child, but "the _lowest_ of Lannisters." Cersei had always blamed him for her mother's death. Her father and Cersei called him a "lecherous little stump" and "a stunted fool". At least her father _never_ called her names.

"I forbid you from going to the woods, Joslyn. Do I make myself clear? Learn to be a woman, child." Were her father's last words to her as he turned to his attention elsewhere.

* * *

The flat sea of Blackwater Bay stretched in all directions, the afternoon sun scattering diamonds across its surface. The shore was a gateway for her. She went straight down to the beach after the encounter with her father. She needed to be alone with her thoughts.. Seagulls wheeled overhead, carried by the cool ocean breeze. Tears rolled down her face as she sat on the gritty sands. Her eyes glazed over looking out into the waters of Blackwater Bay. Lost in thought... in memory. The immene receptacle of the sea pulsated with life and seemed to smile a mocking smile at the sight of her crying.

"There you are!" Antoinette's voice broke her from her thoughts.

Joslyn didn't bother turning around, not surprised that Antoinette found her there. Within the two months since Antoinette's arrival in King's Landing, the two girls were practically inseparable. Even when they were separated, for whatever the reason would be, nothing would change between the two.

"Do you know how long you had me waiting?" Antoinette asked, "What are you doing over here? Where's Arys?"

"Arys is part of the kingsguard now." Joslyn tried to control the tears, as Antoinette stood right in front of her.

She stared at Joslyn, taking in her appearance. Tears flowed down her cheeks and dripped from her chin. "Wait...Is that why you're crying?"

Joslyn's tears didn't ease as they continued to get worse, " _No_! Why do you even care anyway?"

"What do you mean? You're _crying_... Something must have hurt you...or _someone_."

"You wouldn't understand..." How would Antoinette understand? She had her father by her side every day since she was a babe. Whilst Joslyn's father sent her away to be raised at another castle. He scarcely came by to visit her, and when he did he would sit with her for a mere few hours and would talk of history and politics she was too young to understand. She wasn't ashamed to say that she lived for those short sessions. Her father refused to treat her as a spoiled babe; instead he spoke to her in the same way that he would speak to anyone else, of any age. Her father's voice drifted to her then, torturing her even further.

 _You're a lady, not a knight as Jaime. And a lady's place is inside with her studies and her knitting and children. You know this, Joslyn. Don't be difficult; it's not becoming of you._

"Tell me what's wrong... You can trust me."

"Why doesn't he _love_ me?" Joslyn said in a hitched voice. She stood up to face the onyx-haired girl, grains of sand falling from the back of her dress. "Why doesn't he look at me the same way he looks at _Jaime_ or _Cersei_?"

Antoinette stared at Joslyn in confusion, "Who?"

"My father! He _hates_ me, I know he does! My father isn't the same as yours! He's _here_ with you... When you go back home, he'll _still_ be there with you. By your side! As any father should be...Right?" Her face reddened as her voice became louder and louder.

Antoinette frowned. She took a deep breath before calmly saying, "But the king granted you full blood status, you are no longer a bastard... Why would he hate you? You're a _Lannister_."

"It doesn't matter that I bare his name! You wouldn't understand. Where you're from, bastards are everywhere! They'll always be looked down upon here. This isn't Dorne, Antoinette. In his eyes and my sister's and _everyone_ here, I will always be a bastard! The King declaring otherwise does _not_ change the fact that _my_ father is Lord Tywin and my mother was just some _whore_! Joffrey was right, I'm just a mutt and I will _never_ be good enough!" Her whole body shook with her sobbing.

Antoinette stared at Joslyn, pity visible in her eyes. Joslyn didn't want anyone to feel bad for her. She just wanted the answers to help her understood why she felt this way.

The pair stared at each other in silence for a time, the sounds of the waves crashing against the rocks and the seagulls cawing across the sky. It took some time before Antoinette gently put her hands on top of Joslyn's shoulders... Translucent blue eyes stared into eyes that were as grey as ash in a dying fire.

"You're not only a bastard, Joslyn. Although I have my father's love... I'm still a bastard too. I never knew my mother either. And, honestly... I don't know why your father doesn't love you, but I'm _certain_ that he does. Even your sister. They may just have a different way in showing you. And if they don't see what I see in you then to hell with them!"

Startled, Joslyn considered her words for a brief moment with her big Lannister blue eyes, then cracked a watery smile. The words didn't have to be said because Joslyn _knew_ that was Antoinette's own way in saying that _she_ loved her. She was the sun that shined through the clouds.

"You're _funny_... And you're fun. You know how to sing and you're smart... _sometimes_." Antoinette let out an airy laugh as Joslyn rolled her eyes playfully.

"You may at times get on my nerves, but you're genuine. You never let who I am and my house be a bother to you when all I did was cast you out when I first met you. You didn't see a name or a stupid title, you only saw _me_. And now, I see you for who you are. You're my _friend_."

"But...I have _no one_ here! Arys will never have time with me! Tyrion is always leaving...Jaime is too busy! Cersei hates me, she can't even stand the sight of me-"

"You have me." Antoinette pulled Joslyn gently towards her, enveloping in her arms.

Joslyn, initially tried to resist but, Antoinette held firm, "its okay... You're not _alone_. No matter if I'm back home or here in King's Landing. I'm always going to be your friend."

Joslyn slumped into her embraced and started sobbing all over again. Maybe Antoinette was the Seven's way of apologizing to her for all the dysfunction in her family.

In between hitching breaths, "My father didn't even hug me..." She tried to continue but her sobbing got worse. Antoinette just held firm and rubbed her back up and down gently.

Joslyn was raised a lady. She learned to walk, talk, dress, smile, curtsy, behave, and do everything in a _womanly_ manner. Many things had changed in Joslyn's youth and she felt herself still evolving. Every day, she became a little less like herself and a little more like the person she was _expected_ to be until she had met Antoinette. Antoinette liked the _real_ her. They may have been from two different kingdoms, with vastly different views in life-but they were so much more alike than ever imagined. **It** was the things that they had in common that made their friendship so enjoyable, but it was the little differences that made it interesting.

They continued to hold each other. Joslyn felt Antoinette's embrace tightened for just a moment before releasing each other's embrace. She looked at Antoinette and noticed she had an unusual look upon her face.

"What is it?" Joslyn sniffled, her nose clogged from her crying. The glossy sheen that covered her eyes was gone.

Antoinette's eyes and her mouth were frozen wide open in an expression of stunned shook her head as if ridding herself from a troubled thought. "I'm not quite sure how to tell you this."

"Tell me what? What is it?" Joslyn asked, now concerned for Antoinette.

She took a deep breath and continued to tell Joslyn it was nothing. It wasn't until Joslyn started to get angry that Antoinette finally started to form words.

"I saw something... I saw you."

"What do you mean, you saw me? I'm standing right here, am I not?"

"No..." Antoinette released a shaky breath.

Joslyn grabbed hold of her shoulder gently making sure Antoinette was staring directly into her eyes before softly saying, "We're friends right? Friends can tell each other everything...No secrets."

"This only happened to me once with my brother. I get some sort of...vision. I don't know why or how. It looks like a dream...but I had one of you." Antoinette talked slowly, as if waiting for her words to soak into Joslyn's mind before continuing.

Joslyn's face was stuck in an incredulous expression. Her mind was sent reeling, unable to comprehend what Antoinette had just told her.

"I know it sounds mad-but listen! My vision...it was of Lady Fuzz. She was dead... Then you brought her back to life."

"That's not funny, Antoinette!" Joslyn lightly gave a shove on Antoinette's arm.

"I know it's hard to understand but I've read about this. It's rare and-"

As Antoinette continued to explain what she claimed to have seen, Joslyn tried to figure out if she was jesting. Her worries from earlier was pushed aside and forgotten as she tried to make sense of Antoinette's words. She stared at her face, Antoinette's eyes were full of fear. She went on and described her first vision with Odin. Then after she tried her hardest to explain more of what she seen of Lady Fuzz. She never laughed or showed any sign that she was lying. Antoinette wouldn't lie to her. They were friends. She had said it herself and _friends_ don't lie to one another. But, how was Joslyn going to believe in all this?

* * *

Despite carrying the name Lannister, Joslyn was seen as a stain on their great name in the eyes of Cersei. Her father's words echoed in her mind.

 _"She may be a bastard, but she's my bastard." His tone grew darker. "The girl is my child."_

Cersei quite often-and loudly within her half-sister's earshot-proclaimed that Joslyn could've easily been one of the Dornishblood bastard's and demanded have her surname changed. Fortunately, it was Jaime or Tyrion who always came to her rescue and managed to simmer Cersei's temper.

Cersei looked down at her sister who was sitting on the grounds in the garden. When she was upset, Cersei always watched her storm off in anger or watch as she cried her eyes out. She had always been a fussy baby, always crying and unsettled, but she mellowed.

It wasn't until Joffrey sliced open Joslyn's cat, Lady Fuzz, that Cersei realized how cruel her son could be. But still, she loved him fiercely because Joffrey was her perfect son.

"My sweet, darling sister," Cersei cooed to her sobbing sibling. "I don't believe my son meant to hurt you."

The words were lies, and Cersei knew it. Joffrey delighted in hurting his Aunt, and his younger siblings too. There had always been competition between the two since they were the closest in age. Joffery was jealous of how his grandfather, the great Tywin Lannister of House Lannister, preferred the bastard over the heir.

Perhaps it was good that her son didn't love his siblings or his bastard Aunt. Love was a weakness, but Cersei only wished that her other children wouldn't have to suffer.

"But he... he..." Another sharp sob escaped Joslyn's throat, her body flinching violently. She continued to hold her cat in her lap, her legs folded under her not caring if her royal gown got dirty as this point. "He looked so proud, sister. He said that he was d-doing Lady Fuzz and her kittens a kindness. I-I asked him why, and he said... he said th-that he was sparing them a life w-with me as their m-master. Am I really that horrid? Joff said I was. Is she right?"

 _Children fight,_ Cersei told herself. _It's normal. If my father never raised claim over this girl, this wouldn't be happening._ Robert called him a monster when Joffrey presented one of the kittens to him, and he hit poor Joffrey so hard that he knocked out two of his baby teeth. Cersei wouldn't allow Robert to beat him. She would never allow him to beat _any_ of her precious cubs.

"No, sweetling," Cersei said softly. "You're not horrid at all. Joffrey was just... he's just misguided. I'm sure he will realize his mistake and apologize to you in the morrow."

"He won't say sorry," Joslyn replied, bitterness laced in her tone. "Joffrey _never_ says sorry. Not to me, not to Tommen, not to Myrcella. He ripped the head off Myrcella's doll once and then he insulted her for crying. He was so mean, sister, you should have seen..."

"You shouldn't speak ill of him," Cersei cut her off sternly. "He is to be king one day. A king deserves respect."

Joslyn brought her head up and narrowed her bright blue eyes at her sister. Though she was a bastard child of her father, Cersei could see so much of herself in Joslyn. Even at nine she could see that her half-sister would blossom into a beauty. It was times like these, when Joslyn would narrow her eyes and act stubbornly, that the Queen felt like she was looking into a mirror. She hated it. Physically, she possessed the same traits as Cersei, except her tanned skin that reminded Cersei and many others of King's Landing her blood was tainted.

"He's not king yet," she said, raising her chin proudly. There were tears stained on her cheeks. "He's only a _prince_. Your husband is King, and he even called Joffrey a monster-"

"He may be king, but he is not a good man." Cersei protested. Nobody would want a drunken, loud fool for a husband.

"Why does he touch other women?" Joslyn asked curiously, tilting her head to the side. "I see him, at the feasts, and he always kisses and feels the serving girls. Why does he do that?"

Cersei's pretty face was etched with a scowl. She touched her sister's cheek with her hand, and wiped away the dried tears. Her skin was wet from crying and her eyes were red and puffy. Had it been under any other circumstance, Cersei would have scolded Joslyn crying. _Crying is for the weak,_ she would have said, as she said many times before, _you're no lion._

"You need not concern yourself with such things, my darling." Cersei said. "Go clean, up now. Wipe your tears."

Joslyn nodded, though she seemed concentrated on why King Robert touched other women. Her eyes were focused on her cat lying lifelessly in her arms. Cersei smiled pitifully, sorry for her sister and for herself. Her hatred for Robert increased more and more each day, though she couldn't help but feel the same amount of hate for her bastard sister at times. She pushed the thought away as she went to find her twin brother, to rant and rave about how horrible Robert was.

* * *

When she was younger Joslyn had believed that death was nothing out of importance, but a path to another life, a _better_ life. She didn't care about staining her dress with the cat's blood as she placed Lady Fuzz onto her lap. She stroked her black fuzzy fur, hoping that somehow she would react to her touch and start to purr again. Her yellow eyes wide and bloody and frightened after what Joffrey had done to her and her poor kittens, Joslyn knew that death was something cruel and dark. No, death was not something to take lightly, but something everyone feared... and yet something that everyone would have a taste of, even if sooner or later.

She knew she had to let go but instead she closed her eyes as she recited a quick prayer that she learned many years ago from Septa Eglantine.

 _Gentle Mother, font of mercy._

 _You know all things and Heaven and Earth belong to the Seven Gods._

 _Our father who are in Heaven, Hallowed and Holy is thy Name, Thy Kingdom come, let Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven._

She struggled to remember the rest of the prayer pausing to take a breath. Just then, she felt a fall and rise below her hand where it settled on top of Lady Fuzz. She thought it was her mind playing tricks so she kept her eyes closed trying to recite the prayer again, until she felt the rise and fall again. Her eyes shot open looking down at the cat laying on her lap. She stared intently at her hand, as she saw the fall and rise yet again. Her eyes became saucers as she realized... Lady Fuzz was breathing again.

She gasped, removing her hand from Lady Fuzz's chest immediately. _Antoinette was right._

* * *

Joslyn gathered up her skirts quickly making her way through the River Gate, and started running even faster when she reached the fish market. She hoped she was able to catch Antoinette before she set sail to Dorne. Joffrey brutally slaying Lady Fuzz delayed and distracted her from saying a word of farewell to her friend. She needed to tell Antoinette her vision was in fact, _true_. She felt her heartbeat echo in her ears. She knew leaving the Red Keep without a guard to accompany her was extremely dangerous but she had to make it to the dock before Antoinette set sail.

Joslyn ran faster than she did when she had raced with Antoinette and Odin on the days when there was nothing else better to do. She ran _faster_ and _faster_. Down the corridors, down the staircases, skipping two stairs at a time, until she reached the front, ignoring the sunlight blinding her eyes.

As she ran through the crowd, she can hear some of the knights of the city watch yelling at her to stop and stay where she was but Joslyn slipped away from them before they even had a chance to grab her, down the stairs, through the alleys, past people rich and poor alike, until she inhaled salty air and the port came into sight.

She finally saw the boat come to view, and her heart raced faster than before. She looked back quickly and saw the guards still coming up behind. Her golden hair whipped through the wind as she darted towards the small boat.

She almost stumbled once she reached the wooden landing stage. Her eyes searched Antoinette in a panic.

"Antoinette!" she yelled a top of her voice, looking around frantically. She spotted Antoinette's father, Prince Lewyn and Odin-but where was her Dornish friend?

"Hey!" Antoinette stood by the railing with a cloak over her shoulder, the wind catching in her dark hair.

"What happened? What's wrong?" Antoinette asked as both of them met halfway.

Joslyn struggled to catch her breath. "I slept far too long... I didn't know you were leaving so early and-"

"Yeah, I know. I'm mad we have to leave so early but my father insists because of the wind-"

"You were right!" Joslyn blurted out, knowing that she didn't have much time until the city guards grabbed her.

"About what?" Antoinette asked, confused.

Joslyn suddenly felt someone grab her arm and she spun to see it was a guard. "You can't be out here on your own, girl!"

"I _know_! But I had to say bye to my friend!" Joslyn yelled as she tried to yank her arm out of his grasp.

"Bye.. friend!" The guard spat at Antoinette dragging Joslyn away.

"Wait!" She reached out for Antoinette's hand, and Antoinette held onto it, "I need to tell her something!"

Joslyn tried to stay rooted to the floor with the help of her friend pulling her back. The guard finally released his hold and Joslyn flew back against Antoinette. "Be quick! Now!" He shouted.

Joslyn shot him a glare before turning back to her friend. She stood closer to Antoinette, making sure the guard couldn't hear.

"You were right..." Joslyn started again. "You were right about what you said."

"My vision?"

"Yes. I should have never doubted you... I just-I don't know what to think of it. I am _scared_. What does this mean?" Cold sweat glistened on her furrowed brow. She stared at Antoinette who wore a puzzled expression.

"I don't know... It's a higher mystery."

"Have you told anyone of this?" Joslyn's stomach knotted up. Anyone who spoke of such things like magic or powers of such, was deemed as mad. A few years ago when Joslyn experienced her first melee at King's Landing. Septa Eglantine told the tale about Thoros of Myr once he rode out to the field for the tourney. It was said that as he led the charge into during , he fought with a flaming sword that was lit on fire by _magic_. Jaime had even told her the story more than once but as she grew older she asked him if he _truly_ thought his sword was lit by real magic. He only laughed and said, _"I've heard tell he has strange powers. Thoros of Myr... Bloody madman."_

"Only my brother knows of my visions. I never told anyone else..." Antoinette paused and licked her lips. "Except you."

"Please don't tell anyone what happened with me... I can't risk anyone ever finding out. They'll all think we're crazy! We've caused far too much trouble already."

" I won't tell anyone... But, you've been told about the children of the forest, right?"

 _Of course_ , Joslyn read about the Children of the Forrest and of the children that possessed incredible powers over nature,slipping into the minds of beasts, and -the power to foretell the future. Though the children of the forest and their _greenseers_ have long passed.

"What are you saying?" Joslyn asked hurriedly. She looked at the guard whose patience was thinning.

"They had powers too... Some were even able to see the future."

"Magic isn't real."

Septa Elgantine once told her _the man who trusts in magic is dueling with a glass sword. As the children did._

"Do you believe dragons are real?" Antoinette asked, a sort of pleading in her voice for Joslyn to _believe_ her words.

"They do not exist anymore." Her brother Tyrion was a voracious reader, and had a particular interest in dragons since she could remember. He read her _The Dance of the Dragons, A True Telling_ by Grand Maester Munkun a million times over. It was said that people used magical horns and other _spells_ to tame but magic died as did the dragons.

"But they _did_ exist once before." Antoinette's voice was barely above a whisper now. "They were _real_...And so was magic. What do _you_ believe?"

What did she believe? Her beliefs were based off songs and _stories_. She didn't believe Antoinette's vision was of truth but it turned out to be more than true. Lady Fuzz was dead just the day before and she brought her back to life with just the touch of her hand. How was this possible? Joslyn's mind flooded with possibilities-"I believe in the Seven... That is all I know."

Antoinette sighed, and Joslyn could've sworn she saw a flash disappointment in her eyes.

"It is time for your farewells."

She knew time was short with the guard almost breathing down her neck now. Her friend was going back home to Dorne and she couldn't bring herself to say goodbye. She thought to herself how lucky she was to have known someone who was so hard to say goodbye to.

"I feel like I do not need to say goodbye..." Joslyn wrapped her arms around Antoinette in a tight embrace and whispered in the crook of Antoinette's neck, "I just have this feeling like I will see you again soon."

"You will. I will come back... Or you can come to Dorne." Antoinette whispered back, "You've changed me forever.. and I'll never forget you."

Joslyn released the embrace to see silent tears rolling down Antoinette's cheeks. She had always been the one to cry but this time it was Antoinette and it was strangely comforting.

"We'll be friends forever, won't we?"

"Even longer..." Antoinette smiled.

"I will write to you. I will send a raven almost every day." She lowered her voice, "If anything else were to happen again. You will be the first and only one to know, I promise."

"I promise to write to you as well. I will come back soon..And I won't ever let you beat me in a sword fight. So you better train hard!" She playfully punched Joslyn on the arm.

Joslyn laughed. Then her smile quickly disappeared, realizing that this was their goodbye. It was the end of something simple and mayhaps the beginning of everything else. She held back the tears that were threatening to roll down down her cheeks. She had been crying too much these last few months.

She swallowed and gave her friend a warm smile, "I'll be seeing you."

After she parted ways with Antoinette, she looked back over her shoulder and stared out into the sea. Slow desolate tears ran from her unblinking eyes and dripped steadily onto her dress. She spotted the ship she knew her friend was aboard; the flags with a yellow sun and a red spear stitched onto it. The flags were waving goodbye as the ship disappeared into the endless blue.


End file.
